A World History of Magic
by the forgotten sentiment
Summary: At a request from Professor Dumbledore, England and the other nations agree to attend Hogwarts to learn magic and teach a thing or two about their countries' magical history. Harry and the others are in for one hell of a fifth year.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys, so this is my first piece of work for Hetalia AND Harry Potter. Hetalia's a more recent addiction, so when I looked up crossovers for the two, I wasn't surprised to find some great pieces. I started to get my own ideas, though, and that's how we got here.

Disclaimer: Aside from the standard fan fiction fare of "I don't own Harry Potter or Hetalia," I'd also like to add that for the first few chapters, a few scenes are directly taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, though modified to accommodate the Hetalia cast. These are fairly minor, primarily the opening speech and the first couple classes with Umbridge, and will stop occurring completely once the story diverges enough. ;)

This takes place in Year 5. I apologize if the Hetalia characters act a little out of character.

* * *

><p><em>To my old friend,<em>

_Are you doing well, Arthur? I wish this letter was merely a casual exchange, but I'm sure you have heard of the events prior to summer's start. As much as I would like to say that it was not true, we cannot deny this information like the Ministry of Magic has been doing in the past month._

_Lord Voldemort is back, and a student from Hogwarts was killed in the skirmish. Young Harry Potter managed to escape with his life, but things have not been well for the wizarding world lately. If you've seen last week's Daily Prophet, you would know that they are making myself and Harry out to be unstable and dangerous. They have even been meddling in school affairs, planting one of their employees into our vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts position. I fear that my position as Headmaster may not last through the year._

_I'm asking you if you would like to come to Hogwarts. I would surely feel better if a person of your esteem were present. However, because the Ministry is wary of our movements, I believe it may be better to work under the guise of a world culture exchange. If it is not a troublesome thing to request, I ask that you and your fellows from other countries work at Hogwarts this year. I'm sure it would be enlightening for our students to learn of other cultures first hand, and in return we will be willing to teach everyone as students attending the school. I fear that the other countries may be in danger with Lord Voldemort's return; if his actions proceed to go unchecked, it could mean the end of the wizarding world as we know it, even across the seas and to the East._

_I know this is a lot to ask of you, Arthur, but please consider my offer. Young Harry could use your guidance in the event of my termination._

_I shall await your response,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

...

Arthur Kirkland, otherwise known as England or The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, stared at the scroll in his hands, reading the lines written in black quill ink over and over again as wild thoughts flew through his mind.

The bright scarlet and golden bird standing on his desk tilted his head, watching him with intelligent dark eyes. The phoenix squawked.

"Ah, Fawkes," Arthur said, stroking the bird's soft feathers before grabbing the phone and dialing a number. "Would you mind waiting here for a day or two before returning to Dumbledore? I need to make some arrangements… Ah, yes, hello, this is England speaking. I need to schedule a world conference. Yes, it's urgent. As soon as possible."

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><p>"Who d'you think they are? They just came in with the first years!"<p>

"Students, maybe?"

"I've never seen any of them before, and they're _way_ too old to be first years."

"Maybe they're exchange students, or something?"

"Could be…" Harry trailed off as he watched the fiasco with a number of other students seated in the Great Hall.

"Brother~!" the boy in strange Asian clothes exclaimed as the frightened first years parted to let him pass.

"Aiyah!" the young Chinese man flailed his arms as his apparent younger brother latched on and flung his arms around his body. "J-Kiku, help me!"

But the other Asian boy, satisfied that it wasn't his breasts that were in danger, only sighed and edged further away.

"KIKU!"

"Your breasts belong to me da-ze!"

The first years shrieked, faces turning red as they turned away from the scene. Two fourth year Ravenclaws looked up at the commotion, nudging and whispering to each other.

There were more than a dozen unfamiliar people of different ages, standing awkwardly by the young children that were looking around in awe at the dining room lit by floating candles. A young brown-haired man with a childish face was talking animatedly to a tall, Harry assumed, German man. A handsome blond man with wavy hair and a bit of stubble on his chin winked towards a group of seventh year Hufflepuffs. Something about the way he carried himself reminded Harry of the French witches from Beauxbatons Academy.

"Bloody hell, Francis, stop flirting with the students!" a man with large, bushy eyebrows snapped. He seemed to be English, at least.

Well, Harry had another thing to tack onto the list of surprises he'd seen today. Like those weird skeletal horses, and that Umbridge woman sitting at the staff table. He turned away, feeling uncomfortable as the young Asian, who was probably around his age, moved to grope someone else.

By now, the buzz of students had died down into silence, broken only by the occasional rushed whisper. The nervous and trembling first years were lined up in front of the staff table, while the strange guests stood idly off to the side. Professor McGonagall, who had led the group inside, placed a stool onto the ground. On that stool was a familiar ratty old hat.

The Sorting Hat's mouth opened and it burst into song. A handful of the first years looked amazed at the talking hat—Muggle-borns who never knew about magic until they received their Hogwarts acceptance letter, probably—but so did the other strangers. Only the man with the bushy eyebrows seemed unfazed, but he smirked at the reactions from his companions.

Professor McGonagall started to read off the list of names, calling the first years one-by-one to the stool and placing the Sorting Hat onto their heads to determine their houses. The sorting seemed to go by rather slowly. Everyone seemed to have their minds on other matters.

Finally, Dumbledore stood. But, Harry noted with a bit of confusion, Professor McGonagall was still positioned next to the Sorting Hat.

"To our newcomers, welcome! To our old hands—welcome back! I know all of you are famished and parched from the long journey here, but I must make an announcement before the feast can begin."

There were a few complaints across the hall, but most of the students kept quiet, staring eagerly at the Headmaster. Even Ron listened silently.

"I am pleased to announce that this year, Hogwarts has decided to take part in a world culture program," Dumbledore said. He looked over to the group gathered at the side of the room and smiled warmly. "We have guests from all around the world who will, throughout the school year, be teaching us about the magical histories of their countries. In exchange, they will be attending classes to learn how Hogwarts works. I trust that you will treat them with kindness and respect. Arthur, if you may."

The man with bushy eyebrows nodded, and with his back held straight and head held proud, he walked to the front of the staff table. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I am the representative of Great Britain for this exercise. These people are my associates, representatives of their own countries. As Professor Dumbledore had said, we will be periodically teaching your History of Magic classes. We will be cycling through the different countries throughout the year, and I hope you all will enjoy our lessons. Now, as I've been told, we will be sorted into the four houses as students to determine class schedules and which houses we will be staying in."

Whispers broke across the hall, excited ones at that. Students were grinning at the prospect of having these rather good-looking foreigners stay with their houses. The only one who didn't look amused or interested was the Umbridge woman, who looked like she had swallowed something particularly sour.

Arthur smiled and stepped back as Professor McGonagall stepped forward and unraveled a second list of names. "Beilschmidt, Ludwig."

The tall German man Harry noted earlier moved to the stool. He seemed to command attention, the hall dead silent as they watched him sit on the stool and have the Sorting Hat placed on his head. Despite being a grown man sitting in front of a thousand eager witches and wizards with a talking hat on his head, he kept a pretty straight face. Harry was impressed.

"Slytherin!" the hat shouted after a good half minute of mumbling to itself. The Slytherin table whooped and cheered, and a few girls swooned. Ludwig marched over to the table. The ditzy brunet that had been talking with him previously was clapping loudly.

"Beilschmidt, Gilbert," Professor McGonagall called.

A young man with silvery-blond hair and dark red eyes walked to the hat with a smirk on his face. Beilschmidt? Was he related to Ludwig? They didn't really look like it… And was that a little bird on his shoulder?

"Slytherin!"

Not another one! Harry half-heartedly clapped as the silver-haired man proudly walked over to the Slytherin table.

"Hey West, looks like you're stuck with the awesome me this year!"

Ludwig face-palmed.

"Bonnefoy, Francis."

The flirty blond man approached the stool. Out of seemingly nowhere, he pulled out a rose and tossed it to the nearby Hufflepuff table. A number of girls lunged to grab it, and he blew them a kiss.

"What a show off," Ron remarked with distaste.

"Ravenclaw!"

"At least he's not another Slytherin," Harry replied.

"Braginski, Ivan."

"Slytherin!"

Ron shook his head. "Spoke too soon, mate."

"Edelstein, Roderich."

"… Slytherin!"

"Cerriedo, Antonio."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Galante, Raivis."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Héderváry, Elizaveta."

"Gryffindor!"

The entire Gryffindor table cheered. Finally, someone in their house! And she was rather cute, so that was a plus. Elizaveta smiled as she hurried to the Gryffindor table, and she glanced across the room to the Slytherin table, where she spotted Roderich being harassed by Gilbert, before sitting by Ginny.

"Honda, Kiku."

"Ravenclaw!"

The stoic Japanese man walked calmly to his table, where Luna scooted to make room for him. The ditzy brunet was cheering again.

"Im, Yong Soo."

"Gryffindor!"

"Heart of the lion da-ze!" Yong Soo tossed the Sorting Hat off of his head and dashed down to the Gryffindor table. Laughs came from around the room as he honed in on Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Plopping down next to Neville, he said, "_Annyeonghaseyo_! I'm Yong Soo da-ze!"

"Hi, Yong Soo," Harry replied, a bit wary of the Korean teen. "I'm Harry Potter." He expected a gasp or a reaction of shock, but to his surprise Yong Soo only nodded. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad.

"Ron Weasley."

"Hermione Granger."

"Neville Longbottom."

"Nice to meet you all da-ze!"

"Hey, Yong Soo, what'd I miss?" a cheerful young man with blue eyes, glasses, and a stubborn blond hair that stuck upright asked as he sat down next to them.

"Ah! Alfred, you're a Gryffindor too da-ze?"

"Of course! I'm the hero, after all!"

Harry turned his attention back to the sorting after a quick introduction. A sleepy-eyed Greek man by the name of Heracles was trudging over to the Ravenclaw table, followed quickly by Arthur and a boy named Toris.

"Łukasiewicz, Feliks."

"… Gryffindor!"

"So, where are you guys from?" Ron asked as the blond young man walked over to their table.

"I'm from South Korea, da-ze!" Yong Soo announced happily.

"I'm from the good ol' United States of America!" Alfred added. "And Feliks here is from Poland."

"Yeah, it's like, totally awesome being able to come to one of Iggy's 'prestigious school,'" Feliks said, taking a seat next to Hermione. "Too bad I'm not with Liet though, total bummer."

"You're from Poland?" Hermione looked a little excited. In the background, the intimidating Berwald was sorted into Slytherin. "What's it like there? I've read about the Magic Belt of Poland that was meant to keep the knights safe during battles."

"Knights?" Ron asked, vaguely interested.

"Oh, that, well… Um…" Feliks scratched his head and looked away sheepishly.

"Don't mind him da-ze!" Yong Soo said. "He's a little shy around new people."

"Well, don't worry Feliks," Neville said. "It's a little frightening being sorted into houses, but Gryffindor is like family."

Feliks nodded his head but looked like he had other things on his mind. There was a rushed introduction for the Polish boy to learn his fellow Gryffindors' names, but he looked towards the stage suddenly. "Looks like Lilli's in Ravenclaw."

"Lilli?" Alfred and Yong Soo exchanged glances. "You mean Switz's…?"

The timid-looking blond girl hurried over to Ravenclaw table, her cheeks flushed as she sat by Luna and Heracles.

"Who's 'Switz'?" Ron questioned.

"Oh, um," Alfred looked a little startled, "that's Vash. He's the rep from Switzerland. I wouldn't get on his bad side. Over protective brother." They watched as the Sorting Hat was placed on Tino's head. The boy was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Poor Berwald," Feliks remarked. "He's like, totally separated from his wife now."

There was a stifled choking sound as Harry, Ron, and a few other Gryffindors eavesdropping on the conversation heard the word "wife." "You mean Tino's that Slytherin's…?"

"Well, that's what Berwald calls him da-ze," Yong Soo replied. "Tino doesn't like it. They're like best friends, da-ze!"

"More like _boyfriends_." Alfred laughed.

"… But he's a Slytherin," Ron said, deciding to follow the less-obvious question in his head. "And Tino's a Hufflepuff. How do they even get along?"

"Berwald's not that bad," Feliks said. "He's intimidating, but he's totally nice if you get to know him… and stay on his good side."

"Where's Berwald from?" Hermione asked.

"Sweden. And Tino's from Finland da-ze," Yong Soo said. He paused, leaning back to get a better look at the sorting. "Oh, it's Italy da-ze!"

"Italy?" The Gryffindor students looked at the young man sitting on the stool. _'So that's who was talking to the German guy,'_ Harry thought.

"Feliciano and his brother Lovino are like, reps for Italy, the Northern and Southern parts," Feliks said.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Ve~! Ludwig, Kiku! I'm in Hufflepuff!"

Kiku furrowed his eyebrows. Ludwig face-palmed.

As Feliciano scampered off, McGonagall called, "Vargas, Lovino." A boy almost identical to Feliciano sat down on the stool, looking to be in a foul mood. The Sorting Hat sat for a good three seconds before shouting, "Hufflepuff!"

"Ve~! Big brother's with me!"

"And me," Antonio added, grinning.

Lovino's eye twitched as he pulled off the Sorting Hat and grudgingly made his way over to the table, muttering what sounded like Italian curses under his breath.

Eduard was sorted into Ravenclaw, where he sat by Toris. The two boys looked over at the Hufflepuff table, where Raivis was looking a little terrified.

"Poor Raivis," Feliks remarked. "He like, finally got out of Ivan's grasp, but he's separated from Ed and Tor."

"Ivan?" Harry asked, looking over to the light-haired young man at the Slytherin table. The scarf-wearing man looked a little disappointed.

"Ivan's the Russian rep. Toris, Eduard, and Raivis are the Baltic countries," Alfred said. "He spends his free time terrifying them."

"Nice guy," Ron said dryly.

Finally there were only three people left for sorting.

"Wang, Yao."

"Ravenclaw!" Yao gave a sigh of relief and dashed over to sit by Kiku.

"Waah! No!" Yong Soo exclaimed. "Big brother's in Ravenclaw too? How can I claim his breasts from here da-ze?"

There was a long period of silence from the Gryffindor table as the Hogwarts students stared at the Korean boy. Luckily, everyone decided to ignore the outburst.

"Williams, Matthew."

"Hey, it's Canada!" Alfred said. Scratching his head, he added in a lower voice, "Totally forgot he was here…"

"Do you guys call each other by your country's names or something?" Ron asked.

"Err… yeah, it's kind of like a nickname, I guess."

Matthew was sorted into Hufflepuff. He hesitantly wandered over to Tino and Raivis.

"Zwingli, Vash."

"Gryffindor!"

Gryffindor cheered, almost pleased at ending the sorting session with a person going to _their_ house. Vash froze for a moment, looking like he was about to protest, but he took off the Sorting Hat and trudged over to Gryffindor table. He sat down next by Elizaveta, who seemed to be consoling him as his eyes flickered to the Ravenclaw table where Lilli sat.

"… Let's like, not get on Vash's nerves tonight," Feliks said. "Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of all of this. He looked around the Great Hall, scanning the rows for all of the strange guests. Over on the Ravenclaw table, Francis was flirting with a couple of sixth and seventh years while Arthur reprimanded him. Heracles, who apparently had a cat on his head, was talking with Kiku. With the Hufflepuffs, Feliciano and Antonio were harassing Lovino. And at the Slytherins, Roderich was still being pestered by Gilbert, while a number of the students (including Draco) were trying to strike a conversation with Ludwig. Hogwarts was especially crowded now. Somehow, it reminded him of last year, when Beauxbatons and Durmstrang visited… except maybe a little more hectic.

Dumbledore got to his feet once again. "Now that the sorting is finished and there are no other matters to attend to, let us not sit hungry any longer. Tuck in!"

Food appeared out of nowhere on the plates, and there was a collective gasp from certain first years and the world representatives. "This is amazing da-ze!" Yong Soo exclaimed, reaching over to grab a leg of chicken. "Eh… No Korean food?"

"No hamburgers either," Alfred said, looking downcast. He looked into his cup and saw it filled with orange liquid. "What is this? It isn't soda, that's for sure."

"Pumpkin juice," Harry replied, taking a sip from his own glass. "Try it, it's good."

"Sorry mates," Ron said. "Welcoming feast is always English. You could always head down to the kitchens and ask the House Elves to cook you something."

"Ron!" Hermione said, looking almost appalled.

"What? They don't mind. They practically throw food at visitors!"

Across the hall, the sound of Francis's protests could be heard. "English food? No, I refuse to eat it!"

"Francis, don't be rude!" Yao exclaimed.

"Arthur's cooking is abhorrent! I refuse!"

"Bloody wanker!"

"Mr. Francis, maybe you could just try a little bit?" Lilli asked with a tilt of her head. "You don't like Mr. Arthur's food, but he didn't make it this time. Who knows, maybe it'll be good."

"Ahh…" Francis looked thoughtful for a moment. "Mademoiselle Lilli, you bring up a good point. Such an adorable little girl!" He made to jump from his seat and hug the little blond, but Vash suddenly got up, slamming his hands on the Gryffindor table and shaking the goblets and silverware.

"Take one step closer to her and I'll turn you into Swiss cheese!"

"Eek!"

There was laughter from all over the Great Hall. "You guys sure know how to make first impressions," Neville said.

"We try," Alfred said with a grin before he bit into some roast pork.

* * *

><p>After conversation, dinner, and dessert, the satisfied Hogwarts students relaxed in their seats.<p>

"Man, it's been a while since I've had this much food!" Alfred said, still shoveling treacle tart into his mouth. Especially British food! It sort of reminded him of when England would bring him something to eat back when he was small and… He shook his head, waving the thoughts away. "Is dinner like this every night?"

"Maybe not as big, but the plates definitely refill," Ron said, patting his stomach. "I'm stuffed!"

"Don't you have meals served like this at your schools?" Hermione asked curiously. "Or is there a different way to get served?"

Alfred paused, recalling the last time he had visited the Salem Witches Institute back home. There was also Baton Rouge Magical Academy in Louisiana, and the Oakland School of Charms and Transfiguration in California to consider. "We usually just have a bunch of servers wandering up and down the aisles to take orders." He swallowed the last bit of tart before putting his fork down. At that moment, all of the plates were suddenly cleared. "Whoa! Awesome!" Sure he could have eaten more, but maybe it was about time to get a look at the place he'd be staying in for the rest of the year.

Dumbledore stood up to make another announcement. "Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices." He caught Harry, Ron, and Hermione smirking at each other when the old wizard mentioned something about an off-limits forest. Otherwise, it was mostly blah, blah, no magic in the halls, blah, blah. Alfred's attention was waning.

Seriously, though, speaking of magic, he couldn't wait to try out his new wand again. Cherry, 13 inches, totally awesome dragon heartstring core. Alfred had never needed a wand before, letting the Magical part of America work things out on its own. They usually didn't need his help anyway—it was the rest of his country that called for his assistance.

Still, it was because of the Magical community in America that he could even _use_ a wand in the first place. Their magic was his magic. Without them, he wouldn't have been able to levitate those tomatoes earlier (although in hindsight, messing with them while Antonio and Lovino were trying to eat had probably not been a good idea. His shoulder still hurt from _that_ incident).

Suddenly Alfred became aware of the silence in the Great Hall. Had Dumbledore stopped talking? Focusing on the staff table, he noticed that the short woman in the fluffy pink cardigan had made some weird noise. _"Hem, hem!"_ Was it coughing? Was she sick or something? Did she have a chicken bone lodged in her throat?

Dumbledore sat down and looked to the woman expectantly, waiting for her to speak. When she did, it was like a cheese grater to Alfred's ears. High-pitched, breathy, girly little voice. "Thank you, Headmaster," she said, "for those kind words of welcome. Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Did she think they were a bunch of kids or something? This was the hero America she was talking to! Alfred exchanged a look with Yong Soo, who made a face, and Feliks, who looked like he wanted to rip apart that cardigan because it was a crime against nature. _'Thank God she's not an American!'_

The Umbridge woman kept talking, but again, Alfred's mind was wandering. They had classes the next day, right? He wasn't really looking forward to having to do work, but if it was magic, it'd probably be fun! _'I wonder what classes I'm going to have…'_ Hell, when was he even scheduled to teach about American magic history? They still had to work that out.

"Hey, Alfred."

The American blinked, looking around. Students were getting to their feet. "Whoa, I miss something?" He paused. "Where's Ron and Hermione?"

"They're prefects," Harry replied. "They have to show the first years where to go. Come on, I'll take you guys to the tower."

"Tower?" Feliks asked, looking interesting. "We get to sleep in a _tower_? Sweet!"

Harry took the lead and walked in relative silence with Alfred and the others following. Other students were shooting them eager looks, some of them introducing themselves before rushing off. Alfred spent most of his time looking around and making comments about changing staircase, or the moving pictures, or the ghosts (which happened to terrify him).

Finally, they reached the end of a corridor and stopped in front of a portrait of some woman. Then Harry, who had been relatively quiet the whole way up, paused. "Er…"

"No password, no entrance," the woman said.

"Password?" Alfred asked.

"You need a password to get into the house common rooms," Harry said. He looked frustrated. "Great, we have to go find a prefect or someone that knows the password."

But in a stroke of luck, Neville came running down the hall towards them, shouting about remembering the password or something. "_Mimbulus mimbletonia_!" he said, and the painting swung open to reveal door.

"That's so cool!" Alfred exclaimed. "I should totally do something like this at my house!"

Harry almost looked like he was going to smile or laugh, but he climbed through the door with the others following them.

It was a really comfortable place, the common room, with a number of armchairs and tables, a fireplace, and a notice board. All of the Gryffindors in the room looked up at their arrival, and most of them hurried over to Alfred, Yong Soo, and Feliks to begin asking them questions while Harry ducked out and headed off. Alfred didn't mind answering some of them, but he was really starting to get tired. That train ride had taken a lot out of him.

Vash approached them from the other side of the room, hands in his pockets slight frown on his face. "Dorms are over there," he said awkwardly, nodding towards a set of curving stone steps.

"Great, I'm wiped." Alfred yawned loudly, stretching his arms. He walked up the stairs, past a sign that said "Boys' Dormitory", and halfway up he came across a door. "'Gryffindor World Representatives…' Oh, wow, awesome. It's like it's been made just for us." Just as he pushed open the door he heard voices coming from further up the stairs, probably to another room.

"What are you asking me for? Just read the Daily Prophet like your mother, why don't you?" It sounded like Harry, and there was a heated conversation going on.

"Hey, Alfred, found your room?" Ron's sudden appearance nearly made the nation jump.

"Oh, yeah."

"What's going on up there?"

Alfred shrugged. "No idea. Sounds like Harry's getting into a fight or something."

"Ah, hell! I'd better take care of this. See you later, Alfred."

"Right, see you." As Ron headed up the stairs, Alfred entered his dorm. There were four beds set and made, scarlet blankets folded over the white sheets, and red divider curtains tied to the posts with golden rope. The two windows in the room showed the night sky outside. Alfred was a little surprised to find his supply trunk already at the foot of one of the beds.

"Ah, sleep." Bypassing the trunk, he walked over to the bed and collapsed, only bothering to kick off his shoes and place his glasses, Texas, on the nearby nightstand. Exhaustion had its hold on him now, and his eyelids drooped. Alfred was asleep in a matter of minutes.

* * *

><p>Sorry if the sorting seemed too long; I prefer it over skipping and telling who's where later. I was iffy on where to put people (<em>especially<em> Poland!) I had to do some improvising because I would have put too many people into Ravenclaw. I also did sort of use some dialogue from the book at certain points.

Oh, and are there any other nations I didn't include you'd like to see later? I do know of a few openings where they could appear.

Feedback appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for all of the feedback guys! I'll be taking your suggestions into consideration and figuring out where I can adjust things. I have a few notes and questions at the bottom of the page. In the meantime, let's start the chapter!

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><p>"<em>Fratello<em>! _Fratello_! Time to get up, _fratello_, ve~!"

"Guuh, get off me _idiota_…!"

"Lovino, it's time for breakfast. We have classes at nine."

There was a long pause before Lovino sat up in bed, smacking his forehead against Feliciano's. "We have to go to classes _today_?"

"Ow!"

"_Si_," Antonio said with a nod. "They start in an hour, so let's get our butts downstairs to eat something before then. Tino and the others already left." Just as he was about to leave to the common room, he paused. "Oh, school ties are on the desk."

Lovino grimaced, glancing over to his nightstand to see a package tied with twine. He ripped open the brown paper to find a set of yellow-and-black striped ties.

"Ve, what do you think? I think they look pretty awesome!" Feliciano, who was already in the Hogwarts uniform, jumped off of the bed and looked down at the tie around his neck.

Lovino scowled. "Why the hell did I have to get stuck with you this year?"

* * *

><p>"Aiyah, Greece, could you at least keep the cats on your side of the room?" Yao asked, picking up a fluffy white cat from his luggage and placing it on the ground as his panda dozed on the bed. "It's getting fur all over my cloak!"<p>

There must have been a dozen cats wandering around in the Ravenclaw world representatives' dorm room, and they were climbing into trunks and walking all over bed sheets. Barring the cats, the room was already to cramped to house the seven boys comfortably, so a second room had been set up across the steps for Toris, Eduard, and Arthur.

Heracles only shrugged, scooping up the white cat in his arms. "You can't stop a cat… from chasing a mouse," he said after a moment.

Toris suddenly jammed his head into the room. "We're going ahead for breakfast. If we're lucky, we might be able to avoid Russia…"

"We'll be having a meeting during breakfast as well," Arthur added, peering into the room as well.

"_Hai_, we understand," Kiku said with a nod as a silver tabby crawled into his lap and curled up to sleep.

"… Hey… where's France?" Arthur asked, realizing that his arch-rival/foe/nemesis was no where to be seen.

"He left about half an hour ago," Yao replied.

"Probably to flirt with the other students, that bloody…!" Arthur marched off, probably intent on giving the French man a piece of his mind.

* * *

><p>"I could really use a beer right now," Gilbert moaned, head resting on the long dining table as he poked at the hash on his plate. Gilbird was perched on his shoulder. "It's been what, two days since my last?"<p>

"There's supposed to be some sort of trip to a village in October," Ludwig replied, shaking his head at his older brother. Beer sounded good, but at least Ludwig had some experience with denying the drink when he went on that health diet with Kiku… although that hadn't lasted long. "There's probably a bar there, or something."

"October?" Gilbert's head suddenly shot up. Gilbird started to chirp and flap his wings madly. "You want the awesome me to wait a whole freaking _month_?"

Ludwig pressed a hand against his face as he cut into the hot cakes on his plate. _'Great, now people are staring…'_ The Slytherins down the table raised some eyebrows, while the Gryffindors, including the two red-headed twins, watched with a light interest.

"I'll ask that old geezer if I can head down there later tonight. I _need_ a good drink, especially because we have classes next!"

"Would you at least _try_ to act like a civilized adult?" Roderich adjusted his glasses as he stopped by the two Germans. "Your outbursts are attracting unwanted attention."

Gilbert blinked. "Hey, Roddy, you've been saving up money. Why don't you come along and treat the awesome me and West later?"

"I'd rather not…"

"Ve, Ludwig, Ludwig!" Feliciano ran over to the Slytherin table with a pleasant smile on his face. "_Buongiorno_!"

"_Guten morgen_, Feliciano."

The mere presence of the Italian at the Slytherin table was gathering foul looks from the other students eating breakfast. A group of Hufflepuffs that had been speaking to Feli the previous night were surprised to see him so comfortable around the bully-house of the school. They were probably even more surprised when the tall, intimidating Swedish man walked over to their table, and they quickly shut up.

"_Moi moi_!" Tino said happily with a wave, making room for Berwald to sit. Across from him was Raivis, who was wrapping something up in a paper package. "Raivis was just getting Peter's present ready."

Right September 2nd; it was Sealand's birthday. "Wh't is it?"

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and some Exploding Snap. It's a fun game, we tried playing it last night," Tino replied. "The cards explode if you can't find them fast enough."

Well, that explained Raivis's singed bangs. Berwald wasn't exactly sure what to make of his wife playing with exploding cards, though.

More students were passing through the doors of the Great Hall. Lilli and a fellow Ravenclaw that had blond hair and a serene, if somewhat dazed expression on her face walked over to their table, where Francis was flirting with a couple of seventh years. Vash, who had been waiting for his sister's arrival by the Gryffindor table, immediately pounced on the two.

"Lilli, was everything alright? Did you sleep well? No one was harassing you or anything, right?"

"I'm fine, big _bruder_." Lilli gave one of her comforting smiles. "Luna has been helping me with everything."

"I was just telling her about the wrackspurts," Luna said in a dreamy, distant voice. "I think I saw a few flying around one of the Vargas brother's heads earlier. The nargles seem to have stolen my spectrespecs, though, so I'm not sure if they're still there."

"Erm…" Vash looked very confused for a few moments before he nodded. "Thanks for looking after my sister… Luna, was it?"

"Oh, it's no problem."

"Hey, guys!" Raivis exclaimed, interrupting a few conversations as he stood up and waving his hand. Toris and Eduard stepped through into the Great Hall and smiled, but they paled when they glanced over to the Slytherin table.

Ivan, looking pleasant this morning, waved at the boys.

For a second, it looked like Toris and Eduard were going to run, but instead they hurried over to the Hufflepuff table and sat down with Raivis, hiding as well as they could behind a group of second years.

"At least he seems to be in a good mood…?" Toris whispered.

"Ehh…"

"Hello boys, I trust that your first night here has been good?" Ivan smiled, suddenly standing behind Raivis.

"WAH!"

The rest of the Gryffindors seemed to be filling their table. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas took their seats, and Angelina Johnson was pacing around impatiently for one reason or another. Elizaveta came through the doors and immediately honed in on the Slytherin table where Gilbert was still bugging Roderich. As if predicting impending doom, Gilbert turned around and stopped mid-sentence. "Ah, Elizaveta, coming to visit the awesome me?"

"What are you harassing Roderich about this time?" She had her hands on her hips and didn't look amused.

"Planning on going out for drinks later," Gilbert replied with a smirk. "Wanna come along too?"

"You've got to be kidding me." Still, Elizaveta's expression was thoughtful for once, as if she were actually considering it.

"You're asking to hang out with a _Gryffindor_?"

Everyone looked at the boy with platinum blond hair who was a few seats down from them.

"You got a problem with that, kid?" Gilbert asked, raising an eyebrow.

Malfoy flushed as the representatives turned to look at him. "Slytherins don't hang out with Gryffindors. They're not worth it…"

Elizaveta was about to whip out her frying pan from hammer space when Roderich placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now Liza, it's not dignified to waste time hitting a child."

Malfoy's face turned even redder. On the next table over, a few Gryffindors were doubled over with laughter.

* * *

><p>Owls of all sizes and colors swooped in through the open windows, flying over tables and dropping envelopes for the students sitting below.<p>

"Owl mail, da-ze!" Yong Soo exclaimed, awed as the birds seemed to find their recipients with no problem at all. He had a fork in one hand and a biscuit in the other.

Alfred was in the process of shoveling cereal into his mouth when a barn owl landed in front of the girl sitting next to him. "Dude, I totally need to train some eagles to do this! That way I won't have to walk all the way to the mailbox in the morning!"

"What are you still getting that for?" a sharp remark came from further down the table. Harry was scowling as Hermione handed the bird a coin and opened up the animated newspaper. "I'm not bothering… load of rubbish."

"It's best to know what the enemy are saying," Hermione replied before shoving her nose into the pages.

"What's up with Harry da-ze?" Yong Soo asked. "He seems… upset."

"I dunno. I think he was arguing with someone last night," Alfred replied with a shrug. He reached over to grab a piece of buttered toast and munched down.

A few minutes passed before Hermione finally said, "Nothing. Nothing about you or Dumbledore or anything."

"Someone have a problem with Professor Dumbledore da-ze?" Yong Soo whispered to Alfred.

Again, the American boy shrugged. He was distracted by the fact that McGonagall was walking down the aisle with papers in her hand.

"Gryffindors, class schedules!" she called, flipping through the pages and handing out the papers. The other teachers seemed to be doing the same thing for the other houses. When she gave a schedule to Ron, he promptly groaned, "Look at today!"

"These are your schedules for the week, boys," McGonagall said as she gave Alfred and Yong Soo papers. "You'll be taking fifth year classes. Currently, fifth year students are required to take the O.W.L.s, Ordinary Wizarding Levels, but you'll be exempt because you aren't permanent participates in the program."

"Sweet, thanks Prof.," Alfred said, looking over the page.

"_Kamsahamnida_!" Yong Soo said. "Oh, er, I mean thank you, Professor!"

* * *

><p>History of Magic was probably the most boring class in the entire world. Yong Soo knew that history was important and all, especially because he was a country, and sometimes it could be really interesting. It was just… having a teacher like Professor Binns was agonizingly boring. For one, Binns was a ghost. That sort of made things interesting at first (Alfred cowering behind Hermione, and all), but when he started speaking, everything just went downhill.<p>

Yong Soo stifled a yawn, not wanting the Professor to see how bored he was as he doodled pictures on the edges of his parchment. _'I wonder what the others are doing right now da-ze…'_

"Oi, Yong Soo!"

The Korean boy turned to see Ron and Harry leaning forward. "Huh?"

"When are you guys going to be teaching?" Harry asked. "It's gotta be better than the class now. You met with all of the other representatives after breakfast."

"Oh, well…" Yong Soo grinned. "That's a secret. You'll just have to wait and see da-ze!"

Harry and Ron groaned, and Hermione shot them withering looks for their lack of attention, but they weren't the only ones. Feliks was inspecting his nails, a dry whistle slipping through his lips as he fidgeted. Elizaveta leaned back in her chair, looking at the ceiling absentmindedly. Vash was spinning a quill in his hand, occasionally scribbling a note down, but for the most part he stared out the window. Alfred made a noise as he peered out from behind Hermione at Binns, who was oblivious to the hushed conversations around the class.

After forty-five minutes of near-death by boredom, the bell rang.

"Finally!" Feliks exclaimed, shoving his papers into his bag and heading straight for the door. Alfred wasn't too far behind, glad to be away from the ghost (but, seeing as the castle was filled with ghosts, that probably wouldn't last long).

"Where's the potions class?" Feliks asked, looking down at the schedule in his hands. He had stopped halfway down the hall when he realized he had no idea where the next class was.

"Dungeons," Harry replied, walking towards the boy. "Double potions with the Slytherins. It'll be a _great_ class…"

Feliks made a sort of face. "Dungeons? Old, dank, musty, and totally smelly." They made their way down the stairs until they reached their destination. Some Slytherins were already there, and they were filing into the class one by one.

Large cauldrons were set by the desks in the room, and everyone moved to stand by one. Ludwig, Berwald, and Ivan were all at separate cauldrons, apart from every else. Malfoy and the other Slytherins shot Elizaveta glares when she took up the desk next to Roderich. Gilbert pushed his way between the two and grinned as he started talking, Gilbird hiding in his messy hair. They didn't look too amused.

"Hey, Yong Soo, Alfred, Feliks, what's up with those three?" Ron asked after a while.

"Ron, don't be nosy!" Hermione chided.

"What? It's kind of weird that they'd get along. They're Slytherins, and Elizaveta's a Gryffindor."

"Well, Elizaveta's the rep for Hungary," Feliks said. "Roderich's Austria, and Liza used to working for him as his maid. Then they got married, and then broke up, but Liza's totally got the hots for Roderich still."

"They were married?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked surprised. "Why did they break up?" Harry asked.

"Oh, uh…" Feliks glanced to Yong Soo and Alfred with something akin to alarm flashing in his eyes. "They… well…"

"It was a business thing," Vash said, turning around to look at the other Gryffindors behind him. He gave Feliks a warning look that made the Polish boy shrug and grin. "They got together for business, and they had to break up for business. Being a world representative can be… difficult."

Harry nodded absentmindedly and Ron looked confused. Hermione, however, furrowed her eyebrows before shaking her head. Like a thought had formed, but she had pushed it away. At that moment, the door of the class opened, and in stepped a man with slick black hair and a long cloak. Professor Severus Snape.

"Before we begin, I should remind you that next June you will be required to take an exam for this class to show what you have learned about potions, brewing, composition, and effects." His eyes flickered towards the representatives. "Rather, _most_ of you will be taking this exam… But I will not tolerate laziness or sloppiness from any of you. I've already had to inform a few of our guests…"

"I wonder if Feli is okay," Feliks said thoughtfully. "The Hufflepuffs had this class first."

Snape continued to talk about the O.W.L.s, but most of that went in one ear and out the other. Finally, he started talking about the lesson. "Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace." Apparently it was a calming potion that could turn into a dangerous sleeping mixture if one thing went wrong brewing. Well, this would be _fun_. The ingredients and the instructions appeared on the blackboard at the front of the class with a wave of a wand, and the cupboard doors opened to reveal the supplies.

"Does anyone understand what we're supposed to do, 'cuz I sure don't!" Alfred said, staring at the blackboard.

"Come on, we'll show you what you need," Ron said, patting the confused American on the shoulder. "You have to do everything exactly as the instructions say, or the whole thing goes to hell."

"That's good to know da-ze," Yong Soo said, as he picked up the cutting knife and started to chop the ingredients as best he could.

"Man, I wish we could actually _use_ our wands," Alfred muttered. They worked in concentration and silence (or tried to, in Alfred's case—he was very impatient with his steaming cauldron) before Harry spoke up.

"So… If Elizaveta is from Hungary and Roderich from Austria… which country is Gilbert from?"

"Germany, like Ludwig," Feliks said, gingerly scraping his ingredients into the pot. Cleaning his nails with the edge of his cloak, he went on. "Gil's like east Germany though. Prussia, Teutonic Knights, all that stuff. Ludwig's like, the main rep, so Gil usually just hangs around and messes with Roderich… Oh wow, I love this color! Do you think I could use it for nail polish, or would it like, melt off my fingers?"

"I wouldn't risk it, mate," Ron said, giving Feliks a strange look.

They were almost done with their potions. By now, it was plain to see the differences in each student's cauldron. Alfred was cheerfully shoveling the rest of the ingredients into the bright blue liquid, while Hermione's potion was more of a pale aquamarine color. Yong Soo stared in confusion as his potion bubbled like sparkling water, and Vash was panicking the smallest amount as his went from green to gold within three seconds of adding new ingredients.

"By now a light silver vapor should be rising from your potion," Snape announced as he walked around, inspecting the cauldrons. Hermione, Elizaveta, and Roderich all seemed to meet that requirement.

"Damn it!" Vash hissed, glaring at his now-chartreuse potion.

"This is kind of fun!" Alfred said, stirring his cauldron a little too quickly and splashing the floor with neon pink liquid that sizzled on the stone. Yong Soo gave a yelp, jumping away before it could get onto his cloak. A few Slytherins snickered, and Snape glided over to them with a look of distaste.

"It would do well to be more careful in this class, Mr. Jones," he said coolly.

"Ahaha, right, careful!" Alfred didn't seem embarrassed. He continued stirring the potion.

Snape turned to inspect the group's concoctions. Yong Soo's was bubbling like an underwater volcano. Vash's was giving off red fumes in the shape of birds. Ron's was shooting sparks off the surface, but somehow Feliks's was releasing silvery wisps (albeit a few shades darker than it should have been).

It was Harry that the Potions professor turned on.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"

"The Draught of Peace," Harry said as the Slytherins started to taunt him. In the background, Elizaveta looked sympathetic, and Roderich was watching with a stern expression. Gilbert was too distracted, trying to stop his potion from looking like a New Years party.

After a few exchanges, Harry seemed to realize with horror that he had skipped a step in the instructions. Re-reading the list carefully, Alfred blinked.

"Oh man, dude, I totally stirred it too many times."

"I think I added too much moonstone da-ze," Yong Soo added sadly.

"_Evanesco_." Snape said, waving his wand. Harry's gray-fuming potion vanished in the blink of an eye. "The rest of you, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it, and bring it to my desk for testing."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Alfred said, surprised. "Harry's not the only one who messed up this thing!" All eyes were on him now.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for that outburst, Mr. Jones."

"What? I'm just saying, mine looks like a night on the Las Vegas strip, and Yong Soo's looks like Old Faithful right before a big eruption! You shouldn't pick on Harry!"

"Another ten points, Jones, and I'll be seeing you for detention after dinner tonight."

"I—!" But before Alfred could get another word out, Ron jabbed him in the side with his elbow and Yong Soo clapped his hands over his mouth. "Mmph!"

Snape raised an eyebrow before turning away and moving to where Malfoy and his lackeys were standing.

"It's no use fighting with Snape," Harry said, shaking his head but still looking sour. "He'll just give you detention and deduct house points."

"What's a little detention if it's for upholding justice?" Alfred asked as he pried Yong Soo's hand off of his mouth. He had a defiant look in his eyes as he watched Snape.

Harry blinked. "… Thanks, Alfred…"

"It's nothing! I am the hero, after all!"

* * *

><p>"Hey, guys, I'm gonna see if I can get a free pass to that Hogsmeade place," Gilbert said, wiping his mouth of crumbs and standing. The remnants of lunch on his plate vanished. "Anyone want to come with the awesome me?"<p>

"You can go on your own," Roderich replied without raising his gaze from his plate.

"If you are to purchase drinks, you will get vodka, da?" Ivan asked, looking up with a serene smile on his face. Gilbert wanted to snap something back, not exactly fond of the Russian, but he didn't argue. Russia without his vodka wouldn't exactly end well. The former nation of Prussia headed off towards the oak doors, Gilbird peeping eagerly on his head.

"Now, what did the Brit say? The wizard's office is by a gargoyle? Where is it?" Gilbert wandered up the stairs, passing a few other students that were heading down to lunch or going off somewhere like he was. A few girls were eyeing him and whispering to each other. He smirked. Gilbird flapped his wings.

Finally he came across the gargoyle. "Crap, there was a password for it, wasn't there? Hmm… Jelly… jelly something." Gilbird chirped. "Oh, right, jelly slugs."

The gargoyle moved out of the way to reveal a set of stairs.

"Awesome, but not as awesome as us, Gilbird," Gilbert said, going up the steps until he reached a door. Without bothering to knock, he shoved it open. "Hey, Professor, I have a question!"

The elderly wizard, who had been sitting at his desk and looking through a few papers in the circular room, looked up. He didn't seem surprised. "Ah, Mr. Beilschmidt, is everything alright?"

"Eh." Gilbert crossed his arms, eyes flickering to the high bookcases bordering the room and the red bird perched by the desk. "I guess. I want to head down to that Hogsmeade. There are some things I want to pick up."

"The first trip is in October," Dumbledore replied kindly.

"I was thinking more later tonight."

"Oh, tonight?" Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm sorry, but it's against school rules to leave the grounds unless it's on a school excursion. Unless it's an emergency, you can not pass the front gates. They remain closed unless opened by a teacher."

Gilbert had half a mind to tell the old geezer this _was_ an emergency. He needed his beer, West did too, probably, and if Ivan didn't get vodka soon… well, God help the Baltics. Even if they weren't under Russia's control anymore, they were still terrified of the man. At least Feliks was gutsy (or stupid) enough to stand up for Toris and the others.

Gilbird chirped, nuzzling into Gilbert's hair. "Oh, fine," the Prussian boy said with a sigh. "It was worth a shot." He mumbled a thanks to Dumbledore before heading back down. When he was well out of earshot of the gargoyle, however, he started to speak again. "The ol' man said we can't pass the gates. Well, Iggy mentioned there were weird secret passages around here… maybe if I can find one…"

"A secret passage, you say?"

Gilbert blinked, turning around to see the two redheaded twins from Gryffindor approaching. "Yeah, what's it to ya?"

"Perhaps we could be of some assistance," one of the boys said mischievously. "We've smuggled things in the school before, haven't we George?"

"That we have, Fred," replied the other one. "Where is it you want to go, Rep?"

"Hogsmeade…" Gilbert was a little suspicious of the twins, but they didn't seem to be out to get him. He remembered them guffawing at the incident with the Malfoy kid at breakfast. Still, weren't these two the infamous Weasley twins or something, the ones who pulled pranks and had the caretaker chasing after them at all hours? … Maybe he could get along with them.

"Brilliant! We know just the way to go. Come, follow us!"

They walked through the school, traversing a few floors, before coming to stop at an ugly statue of a humpbacked old crone with only one eye. One of the twins—Fred, was it?—looked up and down the corridor cautiously before pulling open the crone's hump, revealing a tunnel of sorts. "This here is a secret passage that goes straight to Honeydukes. From there, you just have to sneak into the front from the basement and you'll be fine."

"Seriously?" Gilbert was surprised, and still a little skeptical. "Why are you showing me this? Isn't there some rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin?" To express his point, he held up his silver-and-green tie.

"It's more like a not-so-good-hearted competition," the one Gilbert assumed was George said. "But we saw the way Elizaveta went over to you guys this morning, and she's vouched for you. Apparently, you're not as slimy as the other Slytherin gits. Plus, we could really use someone to grab some items down at Zonko's Joke Shop while we put the finishing touches on our class-skipping sweets."

'_Hungary vouched for the awesome me? Is that a first?'_ Gilbird's eager chirps snapped Gilbert out of his thoughts. "Fair enough. As long as you're paying for it, I'll pick some things up."

"Excellent. Now, first, we'll be needing some new nose-biting teacups and two bags of frog spawn soap…"

* * *

><p>While the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs made their way to History of Magic class at the end of lunch break bell, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws headed up to one of the towers in the school for Divination. It was a stuffy, incense-smelling room that made Toris's nose itch. Feliks waved from the other side of the room, and the Lithuanian boy smiled.<p>

"YAO~!" An excited voice exclaimed as he and the other Ravenclaws climbed through the trapdoor. Yong Soo barreled his way through the crowd, jumping on Yao and groping him. "Your breasts belong to me da-ze!"

"YONG SOO! Get off! AAH!"

"Haha! Hey, Kiku!"

"Please don't."

Most of the students were staring, but a few Gryffindors who were already beginning to get accustomed to the Korean boy's odd behavior chuckled.

Everyone moved to the tables, splitting into pairs. The reps followed suit. Toris moved to sit with Feliks while Lilli hurried over to Vash. Yong Soo dragged Yao to one of the front seats, the Chinese man sighing and shaking his head. Eduard and Elizaveta also took seats together behind Toris and Feliks, as did Kiku and Heracles. Arthur, having to choose between the lesser of two evils, chose to work with Alfred over Francis. Which was fine, because the French man was now charming a Ravenclaw.

"Hey, Harry, Ron, where's Hermione?" Feliks asked, leaning forward to speak with the black-haired boy and his redheaded friend. It seemed like he was adjusting quite well.

"She doesn't have this class," the red-haired boy replied. "She thinks it's utter bollocks, and she's right. Just make up some horrible disasters and you'll be fine."

"Who're you?" the dark-haired one asked, looking at Toris.

"Toris Lorinaitis, the Lithuania representative," Feliks said cheerfully, flinging an arm around his shoulder. "He's like, my best friend, you know? It sucks that we weren't put in the same house, but oh well, we have classes together. Right, Liet?"

"Right!" Toris had a light embarrassed blush on his face.

"Well, nice to meet you Toris. I'm Ron Weasley."

"And I'm Harry Potter."

Toris blinked, staring at Harry with surprise. So this was the famous Boy-Who-Lived… Even all the way in Lithuania, the witches and wizards knew of him. Looking closely, Toris could see a lightning-shaped scar on the boy's forehead under his bangs. "Same to you two," he said pleasantly.

Harry looked almost relieved at the simple response, though Toris wasn't sure why. He didn't have much time to think about it, for the teacher had decided to make her appearance, dressed in shawls and beads with a large pair of glasses over her eyes.

"Good day, everyone, and welcome back. To our guests from across the world, my name is Professor Trelawney, and this is Divination class. Open your third eyes and let the universe divulge its answers to you! Now, on the tables are copies of _The Dream Oracle _by Inigo Imago. Today I would like you to…" She explained the lesson, apparently something about interpreting dreams using the keys in the book.

Harry and Ron began tiredly, like it was something they had to endure on a daily basis. Considering they were students, it wasn't _too_ far-fetched.

"Liet, I'll go first, 'kay?" Feliks said.

"Sure," Toris replied, flipping open the book and listening to his friend for a good ten minutes as people around them chattered. Most of the class seemed to just be going through the motions, not really caring about what they said aside from a couple of Gryffindor girls who were deep in conversation (apparently engrossed in the textbook), and Yong Soo who spoke rather loudly about his volcano dream (because all dreams originated in Korea… whatever that meant).

"So, what do you think?" Feliks said after he finished his explanation.

According to the divination textbook, a dream about a white-tailed eagle, a plate of talking _pierogi_, and Feliks's pony somehow equated to crashing a magic carpet into the North Tower on the next half moon. Toris closed the book. "I'm going to go with homesickness. Or craving Polish food."

"Ooh, yeah, I could really like, go for _nalesniki_ right now. It's been a while since I've had a good crepe."

Suddenly, there was a shout of exasperation from across the room. "For the last time, Alfred, having a dream about flying in a computer chair across New York City does _not_ mean you're going to be the bloody hero!"

"But I'm America, and I'm _always_ the hero!" Alfred leaned back in his chair and grinned as the rest of the class started laughing.

Before classes ended, Trelawney made sure to assign them a dream diary for homework. Toris didn't mind—it seemed like a fun assignment. He just had to add that to the essay for History of Magic, and according to Feliks, the paper they'd be getting in Potions. Hogwarts wasted no time in assigning work.

"Come on Feliks, we need to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry said as he and Ron climbed down the trapdoor of the Divination classroom.

"Oh, great, we have that woman in the _disgusting_ cardigan," Feliks said, making Toris laugh. "See you at dinner Liet!"

"Bye." He waved as the Gryffindors hurried down the corridor. When they were out of sight, the smile slipped off his face and he sighed. They had the Umbridge woman next? Good luck.

* * *

><p>The first chapters are kind of slow, but I'm trying to get all the nations settled into Hogwarts before things kick off.<p>

One person mentioned something about spelling Hungary's first name wrong (using the English version instead of the actual Hungarian way to write it). I'm just going with what Himaruya wrote (albeit, he may have meant for it to be spelt "Elizabeta", and the romanization was wrong... I have no idea). Since I'm so used to the name Elizaveta and I've already started on some other chapters, so I'm gonna keep it that way, sorry. ^^' Though, how would you pronounce "Erzsébet"?

A _pierogi_ is a type of dumpling that can be filled with different things like cheese or sauerkraut (I particularly like it filled with mashed potatoes) and it's common in the Slavic nations. Pierogi is the Polish word for the dish. A _nalesniki_ is a Polish crepe. If you have any questions on other foreign words, just ask! I think I got most of them right.

Oh, and if you guys know any magic/witch/wizard stories from any of the nations, I'd love to hear them. I need content for the countries to teach, and I've mostly got a few famous legends and witch hunts so far.


	3. Chapter 3

Ahh, chapter up, but a little later than I planned for it to come out... Updates will be coming in less frequently as I try to type chapters ahead of time.

Anyway, let's go!

* * *

><p>Matthew wasn't exactly sure what to make of the Umbridge woman. She looked something like a toad, had a voice and attitude that could grate even his nerves, and her sense of fashion was… debatable (though who was Matthew to judge?), so when he and the rest of the fifth year Hufflepuffs entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he was unprepared for what would happen next. Umbridge was sitting at the teacher's desk and the grin she had on her face was a little creepy.<p>

The Gryffindors came in quietly as well. A tap on Matthew's shoulder alerted him to the presence of Alfred, who grinned and dragged him over to sit at a table with Yong Soo behind three other Gryffindors. When everyone was settled, Umbridge spoke. "Well, good afternoon!"

A reluctant mumble rippled through the students. Matthew spoke a greeting but his voice, already fairly quiet, was like a whisper. Umbridge did not look satisfied. "Tut, tut! _That_ won't do, now, will it? I would like you to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." What were they, kindergarteners? That's what it felt like, anyway. Out of the corner of his eye, Matthew could see Alfred leaning back in his chair, already looking bored. Matt was too. He was hoping to cast some spells in this class (the other Hufflepuffs had mentioned how fun the past few years of DADA were), but Umbridge ordered "wands away."

The professor whipped out her own wand and made several lines appear on the board: Defense Against the Dark Arts; A Return to Basic Principles, followed by instructions. Umbridge mentioned something about fragmented teaching and changing teachers, but Matthew wasn't sure what she meant. Should he try asking someone, maybe the Susan Bones girl in his house? She seemed nice.

Everyone pulled out a piece of parchment paper, a quill, and some ink. Writing with a quill was a little odd. It reminded Matthew of back when he was just a child being taught longhand with an eagle feather.

At the order of the teacher, everyone pulled out their class textbook. "Basics for Beginners" was the chapter. Well, Matthew couldn't complain. He technically _was_ a beginner—the only time he'd used his wand (Maple, 10 inches, unicorn hair) was to find a sock Alfred had lost—so he merely flipped through the pages.

After a silent three minutes, however, Matthew found his eyes rise to the trio sitting in front of him. The girl with bushy brown hair had her hand up. Umbridge was pointedly looking the other way, so much so that Matthew was sure she was ignoring the Gryffindor. Glancing to the side, he could see Alfred and Young Soo were staring at the girl curiously. Heads raised, and soon the entire classroom had stopped reading to stare.

Finally the Umbridge woman gave in. "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no," the girl replied.

"Well, we're reading now. If you have other questions we can deal with them at the end of the class." The woman's voice was so sugar-coated it made Matthew's teeth hurt.

Apparently the girl, Hermione Granger, had questions about the class goals. She asked about actually _using_ spells, not just reading up on them. Many of the other students turned to the blackboard with frowns, obviously agreeing with her.

"_Using_ defensive spells?" The professor laughed. According to her next words, there would be no need to _use_ spells. People all around the class started to speak now—the red-headed Weasley, a Dean Thomas, a Parvati Patil, and… Potter? _The_ Harry Potter was sitting in front of them? That was a… well, it _would_ have been a pleasant surprise had the situation been a bit more enjoyable.

Tempers were flaring. Umbridge was beginning to get flustered as more and more students spoke without raising their hands. She kept repeating herself, reading through the book would be enough to pass the exam at the end of the year. Matthew doubted that; practice was the best way to succeed in a new subject, wasn't it? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alfred's hand clench into a fist.

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" Harry Potter snapped, his hand in the air.

"This is a school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," was Umbridge's response.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter!"

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Alfred beat him to it. "Nothing out there? You're saying there's no reason to learn how to defend yourself because there's _nothing out there_?"

"Hand, Mr.—"

"Jones. Alfred F. Jones."

"Alfred, what are you doing?" Matthew said weakly. Now that a world rep had spoken, the class was starting to whisper.

"Who do you all think will attack children like you?" Umbridge asked, looking around the class.

Harry's hand shot into the air. "Oh, I don't know, maybe _Lord Voldemort_?"

The reaction was automatic. People gasped, squeaked, and flinched. Matthew was a bit confused to the reaction, but he'd once heard Arthur say that the name was something of a taboo in the British wizarding world.

Before Umbridge could respond, Alfred's hand was also raised. "And even if it _isn't_ Voldemort, do you actually think everything's going to be all Fourth-of-July after everyone graduates?"

Umbridge looked shocked. Another hand shot into the air, and she took the opportunity to change the subject. "Yes, Mr.—?"

"Zwingli," Vash said in a gruff voice. "Alfred has a point. Even if Voldemort hadn't come back, there are still those who would try to revive him, correct?"

"Like the Death Eaters, or whatever Arthur said they're called," Elizaveta said, throwing her hand up.

Matthew wanted to bury his face in his arms. It was only the first day at this school, and everyone was already picking fights with the teacher! Feliciano was even getting his white flags ready under the desk!

Umbridge was starting to turn a little red in the face. "Miss—"

"Elizaveta Héderváry," was Hungary's stiff response.

"Miss Héderváry, Mr. Zwingli, and Mr. Jones, the Death Eaters will not be a problem for the Ministry of Magic to deal with. These are peaceful times marred by ugly rumors of a certain Dark wizard's return. All of those rumors are lies."

"It's NOT a lie!" Harry cried, obviously frustrated with the woman's sickly-sweet attitude. "I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter! Tomorrow evening, five o'clock, my office. I repeat, _this is a lie_. No one is in danger of being attacked by any Dark wizards, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or otherwise. Anyone who believes otherwise has been sadly tricked by lies, false rumors, and conspiracy theories against the magical society." Umbridge had a fierce, triumphant look on her face. She spoke slowly and emphatically, trying to drill her words into her students' skulls. "The Dark wizard has not, is not, and will _never_ return. You are safe."

* * *

><p>"That woman is a <em>monster<em>," Hermione said as she and the other students spilled from the DADA classroom for supper. Harry had been sent to McGonagall's office after an outburst about Cedric Diggory, so a few of the nations ended up walking with just Ron and Hermione to the Great Hall.

"And the Ministry is behind all of this! How can anyone lie to a whole country like that?" Elizaveta fumed. "Nothing good ever comes from a country lying to their people about something this important!"

"You're all just lucky you didn't get detention too," Matthew said softly, looking down as he tagged along with the Gryffindors.

"I got detention with Snape later tonight, it's no big deal," Alfred replied with a shrug.

"I'm still surprised that you like, spoke up in class, Vash," Feliks said.

"Being a neutral country doesn't mean that we don't have opinions on important matters like this," the blond man replied stiffly.

When they got to the Great Hall, they joined up with Harry. Word had spread about Harry's outburst, and now students from other houses and classes were whispering.

"Ignore them, you did the right thing, Harry," Elizaveta said with a sniff of disdain. "That woman was just…!"

Harry seemed surprised at the support the other Gryffindors, people he'd only met the night before. "Thanks…"

"Alfred, is what I hear about this afternoon true?"

"Elizaveta!"

"_Bruder_!"

"Apparently you guys are pretty infamous now too," Ron observed, sitting down at the Gryffindor table with Hermione and Harry. Arthur, Francis, Roderich, Gilbert, and Lilli were all coming from different parts of the hall to question the three nations.

"Dudes, I'll explain everything later," Alfred said, holding his hands up. "Let's just eat first!"

"Sorry guys, but there're some things that I need to take care of, so you'll be dining without the awesome me tonight," Gilbert said, hands in the pockets of his robes as he stepped back.

"What are you planning?" Roderich asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gilbert just laughed and headed out of the Great Hall, Gilbird chirping all the way.

* * *

><p>Alfred pushed open the heavy wooden door and peered into the dank dimly lit room. "Yo, Professor, I'm here for detention," he said. "H-ha? What are you three doing here?"<p>

"Ve~, Alfred!" Feliciano said, looking up from the cauldron he was scrubbing with a stiff-bristle brush.

"Oh, hey Alfred," Antonio said with a wave, looking up from the potion ingredients stacked on the walls. "You have detention too, huh?"

"Why the hell am I not surprised?" Lovino mumbled, throwing his brush into his now sparkling cauldron and glaring at it.

"Mr. Jones," Snape said, gliding over out of the darkness in the corner of the room. "Just in time. Take a brush from the table and begin cleaning the cauldrons. All four of you will be staying here until the work is done."

"I have to clean?" Alfred grimaced and scratched his head. "Wait, what's Antonio doing? He's not cleaning!"

"Mr. Cerriedo is currently doing inventory on the potion supplies," Snape replied coolly. "Considering everything that happened this afternoon, he's the only one I have even the slightest amount of trust in to handle the jars without dropping them…"

Alfred looked to the Italian brothers. "What the hell did you guys do?"

"I accidentally knocked over my pot in class!" Feliciano said cheerfully.

"This _idiota_ spilled his potion all over my pants!" Lovino exclaimed.

"And then Lovi freaked out when we tried to calm him down," Antonio added. "Poor guy had to go to the hospital wing."

"My clothes were smoking; I think that's a pretty damn good reason to freak out!" Lovino seethed as Antonio patted him on the head in a comforting manner.

"Aw, Lovi, you're alright now. The burns were only first-degree. Do you want a hug?"

"Chigi! Get away from me! I get enough stupid hug-therapy from Feliciano!"

Alfred snickered. "So that's why you looked so pissed off in DADA!"

"Mr. Jones, I would suggest getting to work," Snape said. "Unless you want another night's detention…"

"No thanks, Prof.!" Alfred said, walking over to the table and swiping a brush. "One night's enough for me!"

Snape scowled at the American and returned to his desk to finish examining the vials filled with his classes' poor excuses for a Draught of Peace, looking up every five minutes to make sure Alfred and Feliciano weren't breaking anything.

"Oh, dude, this gunk is so gross! Do you think if I put this in Yong Soo's shampoo it'll turn his hair green?"

"Ve, or it could make him go bald."

"Haha! That'd be hilarious!"

Snape sighed. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>At ten o'clock the Slytherin common room was empty, aside from the four fifth years sitting around the couches.<p>

"Oh, Potter's got detention with Umbridge on the first week of school." Malfoy laughed. "This is perfect. My father knows Umbridge personally. Maybe I could pull some strings and land him in St. Mungo's for being absolutely insane!"

"But… he's not insane," Goyle said slowly. "Right? He's right, right?"

"Yes, Goyle, he's right," Malfoy said. "But the whole country thinks he belongs in the loony bin. No one believes him, and they think he's as mad as that old fool Dumbledore!" Sometimes, he wondered why he hung out with these people. It was so hard to find good henchmen these days.

"Didn't some of those world rep guys nearly get in trouble too?" Crabbe asked.

Malfoy sighed. "These world representatives are bad news," he said, scowling as he propped his legs up on the table and sunk further back into the couch. "My father never mentioned any news of visitors to school this year. I'm sure it's all a part of Dumbledore's plan to help Potter, but they're nothing special. Just a bunch of annoying wizards from different countries."

"Oh, I know, Draco," Pansy crooned, running her hand through his platinum blond hair. "I mean, have you seen that Héderváry Gryffindor girl? Her choice in hairstyle is _atrocious_, and sometimes with the way she acts, I wonder if she thinks she's a boy! Why does Edelstein even associate with her? You would think he'd be above people like that, seeing as he acts like an aristocrat! Oh, and that American boy, Jones, he never shuts up! Then there's that Swiss guy who's always shouting about his sister, if he cares so much about her why doesn't he just _marry_ her already? And speaking of siblings, I swear the Korean boy has some creepy crush on his brother—how are they brothers anyway? Isn't the other guy Chinese or something?"

"The big Beilschmidt bloke," Crabbe said after a moment. "He alright, but he lets the weird Italian come up to him and talk, and the other Italian calls him 'Potato-bastard.' And all Braginski does is smile all the time. It's creepy. Those three other guys are always trying to hide from him."

"Yeah, and that Berwald Oxenstierna always goes over to the Hufflepuff table to sit with that Finland boy," Goyle said, looking confused. "Someone said they were married…"

"Ridiculous," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "Some of these people just aren't worthy of the Slytherin house. At first I even thought _Gilbert_ showed some promise, but…" Just as the words passed his lips, the door to the common room opened.

In stepped Gilbert Beilschmidt, holding three large paper bags in one hand and a bottle of butterbeer in the other. "What are you looking at, _dummkopf_?" he asked through a mouthful of chocolate frog. "Is my greatness too much for your little minds to handle?"

Malfoy's face turned red, and for a moment he was too shocked to say anything.

Gilbert just "hmph"ed and headed towards the common rooms without giving them a second glance.

"… Git."

* * *

><p>The next day started off gray and wet. Rainwater dripped down the windows of the classrooms, and luckily, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were scheduled for some indoor lessons first. The world representatives were particularly excited today.<p>

Finally, they could use their wands!

"Today we'll be practicing the Summoning Charm," Professor Flitwick said. "Do you all remember the incantation? _Accio_! Remember, the farther something is away from you, the more difficult it can be to summon." Looking to the reps, the short professor said, "I know that you all haven't used this spell before, but try your best!"

"Alright, finally, some actual magic!" Alfred said with a huge grin. He was eager to get going and summon some pillows from across the room. "Let's see… _Accio_!" The soft blue cushion he targeted twitched on the floor, but that was all it did. "Huh? _Accio_! _Accio_!"

Francis smirked. "Come now, Alfred, try to be a little more graceful. Like this: _accio_!" With a flick of his wand, the pillow seemed to tumble across the floor a few times before coming to a stop. "Ehem… I mean _accio_!"

"Hahaha, looks like you can't do it either, Frenchie!"

"Quiet, you stupid American! You can barely nudge the pillow, you have no right to laugh!"

"He may not, but I do," Arthur said. "_Accio_!" With a flick, the cushion flew over to him and landed in his outstretched hand.

Francis crossed his arms. "That doesn't count! We're at your school and you've practiced magic before!"

"_Accio_ pillow da-ze!" Yong Soo said excitedly, flailing his wand. The pillow shot from the floor and smacked into his face, knocking him back over a desk. "Ow!"

"Perhaps with a little _less_ enthusiasm, Mr. Im," Flitwick suggested. "Oh, yes, very good Mr. Von Bock! And you too, Mr. Lorinaitis!"

"Part of me wishes we knew this sort of thing back when we lived with Ivan…" Toris remarked with a nervous laugh as he balanced the blue pillow in one hand.

"It would have made carrying the dishes much easier," Eduard agreed with a nod.

"Gah! _Accio_!" Yao was getting frustrated at his failed attempts to summon the pillow from across the room. "How are you doing, Kiku?"

Kiku had a light frown on his face as he waved his wand. "Not so well, I admit. _Accio_." The pillow slowly inched forward, as if being dragged by an unknown force.

Feliks scrunched his face a little as he whipped the wand around. "_Accio_ pillow!" Instead of summoning the pillow, it spontaneously burst into flames. "Oh, oops! Totally my bad!"

"Concentration, Mr. Łukasiewicz," Flitwick said, a bit of worry flashing across his face as he put out the fire.

"Er… I feel silly doing this," Vash mumbled as he waved the wand. "_Accio_…!" The pillow slid across the ground maybe two inches before it stopped. It barely moved at all.

"You have to really mean it, big _bruder_," Lilli said with a slight smile. "_Accio_!" The cushion flew right into her hands. Vash was surprised.

"Where did you learn how to use magic so well?"

Suppressing a tiny laugh, Lilli said, "I'm not really sure, but it's fun, right?"

"Ah, Mr. Karpusi, please get up. I don't want to have to deduct points from my own house or give you detention for sleeping in class! We're practicing Summoning Charms here!"

Heracles blinked sleepily, sitting up and looking around with an almost dazed expression. He yawned, lifting his laurel wand and mumbling, "_Accio_…" He caught the pillow with a lazy hand and rested his head against it three seconds later when he dozed off again.

"Who knew he'd be so good at this?" Harry said.

"I wish I could do all of _my_ classes in my sleep," Ron muttered.

The ones who couldn't successfully pull off the Summoning Charm were assigned practice for homework. At least it wasn't an essay—the teachers seemed to be piling those on. The next class for the Gryffindors was double Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs.

"Today we'll be using the Vanishing Spell to make the snails before you disappear," McGonagall explained after everyone was ready. "It is by far the hardest spell you will encounter on the O.W.L.s, though it isn't as hard as the Conjuring Spell."

And it _was_ the exceedingly difficult. Everyone was struggling to make their snails disappear—everyone except Hermione, who managed to vanish the invertebrate with ease on her third try.

"Ve, but I don't want to make it disappear," Feliciano said as he let the snail crawl on his hand. "It's kind of cute, don't you think, Lovino? Heheh, that tickles!"

"You idiot, put that thing down!" Lovino barked. "Don't you know what kind of diseases those things carry?"

"But _fratello_, it looks harmless! Look at its little eyes, isn't it adorable?"

"Lovi, just try to concentrate on your own snail, huh?" Antonio suggested. "_Evanesco_." With a passionate wave of his wand, the snail vanished. "Wow, and it was only my fifth try!"

"How the hell did you manage to do that!"

"I don't think I can do it," Raivis said, looking from the snail to his wand and back again. "I'll probably just make it explode. Or its head will disappear leaving its body behind, and that might end up killing it! Where do the disappeared things go anyway?"

"That's a good question," Tino said thoughtfully. He shrugged and waved his wand. "_Evanesco_!" The snail just seemed to fade from existence. "Wow, I did it! Fourth try too!"

"Waaah! Help! Help me! Get it off, it's on my head!" Feliciano panicked. The rest of the class paused in the spell-casting to laugh at the poor boy.

Elizaveta tried to stifle her own laugh as Feliciano flailed. "Hold on, Feli, I'll get it." She picked the snail off of his head and gently placed it on the desk in front of him.

"Ve~! Thank you, Miss Hungary!"

"It was nothing, Feli." Turning her attention back to the snail, Elizaveta waved her wand. "_Evanesco_." Nothing happened. "_Evanesco_!" she said with a little more force. It was disturbing when, on her third try, the snail was suddenly split down the middle, its left half vanishing completely. And it kept moving. She gave it a tentative poke with the end of her wand.

"Uhh… Professor? Is this supposed to happen?" Alfred asked, holding up a hand when his snail suddenly sprouted a pair of tiny little arms.

"I think mine sprouted two heads da-ze," Yong Soo said.

"At least I got the shell off…" Vash scratched his head.

"Oh, hey, I guess like, seventeenth time's the charm," Feliks said cheerfully.

"Hey guys, look here! I did it, I did it! _Fantastico_!"

Lovino's jaw dropped. "How the hell did you vanish that snail on your first try!"

"Ve… I'm not really sure! Professor, Professor, is there any way I can get my snail back? I was planning on giving him pasta later!"

"He managed to vanish the snail faster than Hermione did!" Ron said, looking to his friends. "Blimey, you don't reckon he might be some sort of genius pretending to be stupid, do you?"

"Ron, don't be rude!" Hermione said. She looked as surprised as he did, though.

"I managed to vanish the snail on the first try too," Matthew said quietly, wand in his hand as he stared at the spot the creature had been moments before.

"Who're you?" the disembodied snail's voice asked.

"I'm Canada…"

* * *

><p>After lunch, the Slytherins were scheduled for Herbology class. The ground was muddy, but at least the rain had lessened to a light drizzle. The greenhouse was warm and humid, and it smelled of fertilizer and dirt.<p>

"Before you is the Fanged Geranium. It may look like a simple flower, but be careful, as it's temperamental and is prone to biting if it becomes agitated. Now, because it's the first day of class, I want you all to split up into pairs and simply prune the leaves—one person will hold it back while the other uses the shears. Remember to wear your dragon hide gloves."

"I suppose I'll work with you today," Ludwig said, looking over to Roderich.

"That's fine. You can hold the moody plant while I do the trimming."

"Hello Berwald, would you like to be my partner?" Ivan asked with a smile as he stepped over to the Swedish man.

"… 'lright." He didn't really want to, but it was best to be civil with the Russian. At least he seemed to be in a good mood, ever since Gilbert brought over drinks from the Hog's Head the night before.

Gilbert himself wasn't happy with the situation in the greenhouse. "Great, so it looks like the awesome me is stuck working with you."

"Just get the stupid plant," Malfoy said, using most of his self-control to stop from snapping.

"Alright, alright." The Fanged Geranium looked rather innocent at first; it was a light yellow-white color and twitched occasionally. Gilbert pulled on the gloves he had picked up from Diagon Alley before they arrived in Hogwarts and moved to grab it.

Malfoy moved the shears to snip off one of the leaves sticking out from the flower's stem. It seemed relaxed, perhaps not noticing the approaching scissors.

"Pipipipipi!"

"Gah!" The shears slipped, snipping off a bit too much of the leaves. The flower made an angry gurgling noise before clamping down on Malfoy's hand. "Get off!" He shook his hand until the Fanged Geranium let go. "Your stupid bird distracted me!"

"You dare to insult the awesome Gilbird?" Gilbert asked. The little bird on his head looked distracted, staring at the bucket of earthworms on the floor.

"Why do you even have that bloody bird with you in the middle of class?"

"Gilbird goes where he wants to go, and if he wants to come with the awesome me, he does!"

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Beilschmidt, five points from Slytherin! Please focus on your work!" Professor Sprout said, frowning slightly. It wasn't often that the Slytherins would in-fight, at least publically.

"Oh, look at what you've done now, _dummkopf_!"

"Me? It was—" Malfoy cut himself off when he saw the look Sprout was giving them. "… We'll settle this later."

* * *

><p>That night in the Gryffindor common room, Elizaveta, Yong Soo, and Alfred were gathered at a table with a deck of Exploding Snap. Hermione was getting annoyed with the constant <em>pop-pop-pop!<em> "You should really do the homework we had assigned. It's not a good idea to let it just build up."

"I already did Snape's essay, I'll do the rest later," Elizaveta replied.

"Yeah, we'll do it later," Alfred agreed as he jabbed one of the cards with his wand. "Alright, Yong Soo, flip 'em!"

"Ready, set, go da-ze!"

Hermione sighed, shaking her head as Alfred gave a yelp and the cards exploded. She turned to look at Feliks and Vash, the former lying in front of the fireplace with his papers, the latter sitting quietly by the window with the Divination dream diary.

"Hey, Hermione, can you like, help me write this stuff?" Feliks asked. He was biting down on the end of his quill. "I hate writing essays."

"At least someone is working. I'll look it over and edit it."

"Thanks! You're totally awesome! Now I can work on the plans for decorating the dorm. I was thinking of adding some new curtains by the window—beige or pink?"

"I'm gonna go with neither," Alfred replied distractedly as he flipped the cards for Yong Soo. "I don't want you to turn our room into a big girly mess."

"Coming from the American with no taste in style!"

"Don't worry, Feliks, you can help me redecorate my room," Elizaveta said, trying to diffuse the potential argument. "I was planning on changing the rug, but I was having some problems deciding on the color."

The Polish boy smiled. "Okay! I'll think of something gorgeous!"

At that moment, the common room door opened. In stepped Harry, who looked a little pale. "Oh, uh, hi guys," he said when he spotted the group that was still hanging around the fire.

"Hey, Harry, how was detention da-ze?" Yong Soo asked.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but paused. He tucked his hands into his pockets. "Oh, not bad."

"What did she have you do?" Hermione asked, looking up from Feliks's report.

"Lines," Harry replied. "I'm supposed to come in for the rest of the week, and Umbridge isn't letting me drop Friday. Angelina's not going to be happy… Where's Ron?"

"He's sleeping," Hermione replied. "I'm not sure what he's been doing, but he came in right before curfew and went to bed."

"I'm going to turn in too," Harry said. "G'night everyone."

"'Night."

* * *

><p>The first week of school passed by slowly. As Harry continued with his after-dinner detentions with Umbridge, the reps were getting comfortable with daily life in Hogwarts. Finally it was the weekend and it was time to kick back, relax, and maybe catch up with some unfinished work.<p>

It was early morning when Harry had a rather odd encounter. He had gone down into the common room with a quill and some parchment paper. Sitting in one of the soft couches with stuffing spilling from loose seams, he looked out the window and thought about what he was going to write. Minutes passed as the sun inched above the horizon, and finally he decided on something.

Just as the inked quill tip touched the paper, he heard footsteps coming from the boys' dormitories. He froze.

Vash trudged down the stairs and yawned. Harry stared at him—or rather, the clothes he was wearing—with wide eyes. "What?" the Swiss boy asked before he looked down at the frilled pink pajamas. "My sister made these for me," he said, flushing slightly in the face. "I probably should have changed before coming downstairs… I didn't think anyone would be awake this early."

"They're, um, nice." Harry was unsure of what to say. "Your sister is Lilli Siegel, the representative of Liechtenstein, right?" When he got a nod in response, Harry went on. "If you don't mind me asking… are you two actually related?"

There was a long pause before Vash spoke. "No. I took her in years ago when our countries were going through hard economic times."

Harry debated on asking him about their parents, but he decided against it. He knew first hand how touchy these family questions could be. He only nodded and turned back to his letter. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Vash sit down on one of the other couches and pull up Professor Sinistra's Astronomy homework.

'_It's a little weird,'_ a tiny voice in Harry's head said as he stood up, finished letter in hand. His mind wandered to the Muggle history books he once flipped through in a fit of boredom. _'Vash took in his sister, just like how Switzerland took in Liechtenstein.'_

Harry left the common room before anyone else woke up. He headed down to the owlry, the air cool against his face. Not many other students were wandering around, but he did spot Ludwig doing an early-morning jog on the field. A few girls from Slytherin and Ravenclaw watched from a distance, but he didn't seem to give them any notice.

Harry hurried up the stairs of the winding tower, and he was surprised to find people already there. Tino and Berwald were looking up at the hundreds of owls that fluttered across the wooden beams. They didn't seem to notice him, so Harry moved forward and searched for a spot of white amongst the browns and tans.

Hedwig glided down from one of the posts, and Tino and Berwald watched as she landed on a perch by Harry.

"Is she yours?" Tino asked, looking almost awed.

Harry nodded. "I've had her since my first year here. Come on, Hedwig." He handed her the letter, which she grabbed with her beak. Glancing towards the other two boys cautiously, he whispered to her, "I know it says 'Snuffles', but take it to Sirius, okay?"

Hedwig blinked her huge golden eyes in answer and took off out the open window.

"We have snowy owls in Finland," Tino said, watching as Hedwig grew smaller and smaller, until she was nothing but a speck in the light blue sky. "Sweden too, right?"

"R'ght," Berwald said with a nod.

"Oh, um, Harry, can you help us?" Tino asked. "We don't have an owl, but we need to send a present…"

"Use one of the school owls," Harry said. As he spoke, a large great-horned owl landed on a nearby perch. "This one's volunteering."

"Oh, great!" Tino hurried over to the bird, and Berwald followed at a slower pace. "So, these guys know where to go wherever I tell them?"

Harry nodded. "Right." Tino looked amazed, and Berwald looked impressed. Thinking about it, it was sort of amazing that these owls had an innate knowledge for where places were in the world.

"Okay, we have a package here," Tino said, and Berwald handed over the brown package he was holding under his arm. "We need you to take it to Sealand. Preferably to a boy named Peter Kirkland, but if you can only find the guard, it's okay, he'll give it to him."

The owl tilted its head but took the gift in its beak and flew off without complaint. Harry couldn't help feeling extremely curious. Sending a present to the tiny steel fort off in the ocean that only had about four people living there? Wait… "Kirkland? Is the person you're sending the gift to related to Arthur?"

Berwald nodded. "They're br'thers."

"Arthur finds him annoying but we're friends," Tino said with a smile. "It was his birthday on the 2nd, so we thought getting him some cool magic toys would be nice."

Somehow that date seemed a little weird to Harry, but he shook it off and stared out the window. _'If they're brothers, why does Peter live separated from Arthur?'_ Suddenly, movement over the Forbidden Forest caught his attention. Harry moved closer to the window, focusing on the treetops.

It was the winged horse, the same kind he saw on the first night back. Skeletal, leathery skinned, a ghostly appearance… It made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

"Oh, it's that creepy horse again," Tino said, coming up next to Harry and leaning to get a better view. "They were pulling the carriages, right?"

"You can see them?" Harry asked, surprised. Both Tino and Berwald nodded. It made him feel a little less crazy, at least. The winged horse glided back below the trees, disappearing from view. "Do you know why only some students can see them?"

"No 'dea."

"Huh…"

The day—and by extension, the whole weekend—passed without Harry giving the incident much thought. In his defense, a lot of things happened in that short time, from Quidditch practice to Percy's anti-Potter letter to Ron, to Sirius appearing in the fireplace after all the other Gryffindors went to bed on Sunday. And then there was the article published in the Daily Prophet on Monday.

"High Inquisitor?" Elizaveta would have crushed the newspaper, had it not been for the article about an elderly wizard's pet unicorn that caught Feliks's eye. "Well this is brilliant. So we'll have the toad watching us in _other_ classes too now."

"Just wait until she decides to inspect McGonagall," Ron said with a grin. "She won't know what hit her."

"We'd better be getting to Binns's class. We don't want to be late if Umbridge is there," Hermione said.

"Great, History to start off the day again." Harry sighed and stood up. "I don't know if I can handle being in a class with Binns _and_ Umbridge… Are you guys coming?"

"Oh, we'll be there soon," Alfred said with a mischievous grin. Actually, looking at them now, it seemed like all of the reps gathered at the table (including Toris, Lilli, Matthew, and Roderich) were amused for one reason or another.

"Well… Alright." Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed out of the Great Hall and made their way up the stairs at a casual pace. The end-of-breakfast bell rang just as they entered the classroom, and they weren't the only Gryffindors already seated. Parvati and Lavender were gossiping about a Scandinavian Quidditch player, while Dean and Seamus were sitting in the corner seats, talking to each other over the Daily Prophet (Seamus avoided making eye contact with Harry).

It took a moment for him to notice what seemed so strange about the class, but Harry figured it out when he realized Professor Binns wasn't in the room. "Odd… he's usually always in here."

"Maybe he got caught up chatting with Nick?" Ron suggested with a shrug, though he sounded doubtful.

The rest of the class got through the doors just before the late bell rang. Alfred and Yong Soo veered to sit with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and for some reason the two reps couldn't seem to contain their excitement.

"What's going on?" Ron asked. "You guys are jumping in your seats!"

"_Hem-hem_!"

All chatter in the class immediately stopped. Alfred and Yong Soo stopped fidgeting. Everyone turned to see Umbridge sitting down in the very back of the room, a clipboard in hand and a wide-eyed smirk on her face. Had she just arrived? "Tsk, tsk, staff lateness is unacceptable," she said in her high voice, scribbling something down on the clipboard. "Do any of you know where the Professor is?"

The class remained silent and everyone exchanged looks. Where was the old ghost? They looked to the walls, waiting for him to come gliding through at any moment, probably starting the lesson with something about the Goblin Rebellion.

_BANG!_

"_Buon giorno_!" Feliciano exclaimed as he threw open the door. Behind him, Lovino stepped into the room looking notably less happy. "Ve~, sorry we're a little late, we were talking to Dumbledore!"

"Mr. Feliciano, Mr. Lovino," Umbridge said, thoroughly startled at the appearance of the Italian boys. "What, may I ask, are the two of you doing here? Hufflepuffs don't have History of Magic until after lunch."

"Isn't it obvious?" Lovino asked. He walked between the desks, passing the Gryffindors who were now totally engrossed with what was happening. Stopping at the front of the room before the blackboard, he turned around to face the students. "We're here to teach the damn class."

* * *

><p>Hello Italia brothers! Yep, first class planned out! I'm using some information I had already gathered for this lesson, but I'm going to be using some suggestions for later ones.<p>

That whole thing the reps spoke about when in Umbridge's class... Seriously, I think that is a flaw in the Ministry's thinking at that point in time. So what, sure, even if Voldemort wasn't back, aren't there still some crazies out there? Even non-Death Eater ones... After all, Voldemort isn't the only Dark wizard the world has ever seen.

Let's see, what else... This chapter's all over the place with little scenes. And I gave Liechtenstein different last name than Switzerland because she existed before the current partnership with him. Um... Also, I've used a certain method for four nations' wand length and wood type so far: America, Canada, Italy, and Romano (the latter two you'll see in the next chapter.) Can you figure out how? Recap: Alfred's is Cherry, 13 inches; Matthew's is Maple, 10 inches.

Thanks everyone for the feedback! Stay tuned until the next update!


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter is a little short, but I decided to split up the intended ending for next chapter to space things out. The last part was written a few weeks after the other bits, so it's a little choppy. But anyway, enjoy!

* * *

><p>For once, the entire room was fixated on the day's History of Magic lesson. Lovino had propped himself up on the front desk, a tomato in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other as Feliciano dropped two steel pots onto the table. From the pockets of his robe, the younger Italian boy pulled out pasta ingredients—garlic, tomatoes, eggplant, among other things—and a few packages of spaghetti.<p>

"What are they doing?" Parvati whispered as she watched Feliciano pull out a cutting boarding and a knife—God knows where he kept it all. "Are they _cooking_?"

"Men that can cook… They're cute," Lavender said, trying to hide the giant grin on her face. Lovino shot her a sly grin, making her cheeks turn red.

"Ve, can someone light a fire? I need to get the water boiling!" Feliciano said as he sliced the eggplant. Hands shot up—mostly from the girls in the room. "Ve… How about you?" he asked, looking to Hermione. "You're supposed to be like really smart, right?"

"_Hem, hem_!"

Everyone turned to the back of the class to see Umbridge watching the going-ons with a frown. In all honesty, they had almost forgotten she was there.

"May I ask what it is you are doing?" Umbridge asked in her sugar-sweet voice.

"Ve~, well because this is a class for Italian history, I thought sampling some pasta would be nice," Feliciano said with oblivious cheerfulness.

Umbridge's frown deepened, and she scribbled something down on her clipboard. "And how exactly is that supposed to help teach magical history to Hogwarts students?"

"Eh… Well, pasta is a food for everyone, even witches and wizards!" Feliciano said after a moment. "Plus we missed breakfast and I was getting kind of hungry!"

Umbridge pursed her lips and added another note.

Lovino tossed his tomato into the air before catching it behind his back. "So anyway, I'm Lovino and this _idiota_ here is my brother, Feli, and in case for some reason you didn't know this already, we're the representatives of Italy. So, what do you all know about Italy?"

"Something about Sardinia during the International Warlock Convention of 1289?" Dean said.

"The warlock Zaccaria Innocenti danced around in the crater of Mount Vesuvius after casting a Dancing Feet Jinx on himself in 79," Parvati said. "And then the volcano erupted later that year…"

Lovino sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "And there went Pompeii and Herculaneum… That bastard…!"

"Hey, Grandpa told me about that guy!" Feliciano said with a smile. "Apparently he was kind of an asshole."

"_Hem, hem_! Language, please."

"Hmph, well, that's not important!" Lovino said. "Obviously you haven't been taught much about our country. Don't you all realize that Italian witches and wizards masters of… _romanza_?"

Lavender stifled a mad giggle. It seemed like the girls in the class (barring Elizaveta) was hanging onto Lovino's every word. The boys seemed less than amused.

"This is like Lockhart all over again," Ron mumbled to Harry.

"Italian witches and wizards had a knack for making love potions," Feliciano explained as he mixed together a tomato sauce. "They were called to help people going through some rocky relationships. We Italians were great matchmakers, huh?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air. "But weren't the first love potions created in France?"

Lovino suppressed a shiver. "France may have created the first love potion, but the Italians did a bit of… editing to the recipes and produced more potions than those French bastards."

"_Hem, hem_!" Umbridge warned, and she scribbled something along the lines of "vulgar language" onto her paper. Lovino shot her a glare and grumbled a few swears under his breath while her head was down.

"Ve, France had a little help from us to create the strongest love potion in the world!" Feliciano said, unaware of his brother's bad mood.

"The first tries weren't so… successful, though," Lovino said with a grimace. "Long story short, let's just say the earthquake in 1349 that caused the south side of the Colosseum to collapse wasn't an accident…"

"Ah, I remember that! I was sore for a week!" Feliciano said. Several students—including Harry, Hermione, and Ron—exchanged bewildered glances.

"See, there was a lot of magical activity in Italy back then," Lovino said with a wave of his hand. "La Signora del Gioco, the Lady of the Game was one of the famous witches back in the 1300's. She was a big-shot teacher for the witches and wizards before Nocebastone Academy was built. A little weird though—she had a hobby of scaring Muggles by casting sleeping spells on animals used for food and waking them up at the table. Great girl for parties."

"_Fratello_, wasn't she the one who cursed that plate of pasta when that guy spilled wine on her dress back in 1362?"

"Yes, Feli. It flew after him down the street and tried to eat his leg."

"Haha, I remember that now! That was a fun night! Though, the villagers weren't really happy…"

What on earth was Feliciano talking about? He made it sound like he'd actually been there or something. Well, at least it was entertaining—something that couldn't be said about the usual History of Magic lessons…

Umbridge coughed. "May I ask where you learned this information?" she said in her sickly sweet voice. "It seems as if you may be going off on a tangent unrelated to the subject being taught."

"Why don't you let _us_ decide what's relevant and what's not, _stronzo_?" Lovino snapped, scowling. It was tempting to throw something at the old hag for her little interruptions, but the only thing he had was a tomato, and he wasn't going to waste it on a person like her.

Umbridge looked surprised by the sharp response, and she etched another short note down.

Lovino glanced down at the paper in his hand, and with a less than amused voice, he said, "You all are supposed to write this next part down. So, Nocebastone Academy is our magic school—like the Italian equivalent of Hogwarts—and it's located on the island of Sardinia. It gets its name from the giant Walnut Tree of Benevento. Witches and wizards would gather at the tree and hold ceremonies and festivals, and the branches were used to make wands. The tree was uprooted in 663, but most of the branches were made into wands and kept in storage. Our wands," he reached into his cloak and pulled out his wand, "are made from the same tree. 9 inches, hair from a river nymph… Particularly good for charming."

There were a few giggles. Elizaveta rolled her eyes, as did a number of the boys in the room. Umbridge scribbled something down on her board, muttering what sounded like "flirting with students…"

"Don't forget mine!" Feliciano said pleasantly. "12 inches, hair from a spring nymph." He waved his wand, stirring the tomato sauce with a bit of magic. "Ah, I think the pasta's ready! Now to get the plates!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were—" Feliciano ignored the warning and waved his wand again, casting a conjuration spell. There were several pops, and eighteen ceramic plates appeared out of thin air around the classroom.

"YOU IDIOT!" Lovino exclaimed, diving to catch the plates before they could hit the floor. Harry lunged forward, barely grasping a falling plate with the tips of his fingers. Ron jammed his foot out into the open and caught one with the side of his shoe. One dish smacked into Seamus' head, and Parvati fumbled to grab it before it fell. Another fell onto Umbridge's clipboard, smearing the quill ink and knocking it out of her hands. She looked up, eyes flashing dangerously.

"See Lovino, it turned out alright!"

Lovino glared at his brother, lying on the ground with six plates in his arms. "Chigi…! Don't do that again!"

"Ve… But we still need the forks."

"We don't want any of _those_ falling on their heads!" Lovino got to his feet and flicked his wand. It took a couple tries, but he managed to conjure enough forks on the front desk. "Feh, finally!"

"Wait until you guys get a taste of some of this pasta!" Feliciano said as he filled the plates. "It's a lot better than that bland food you have all the time here!"

The Hogwarts students weren't exactly sure if they were supposed to take offense to that remark or not, so they just waited patiently for the two Italians to place the dishes on their desks. Even Umbridge was shoved a plate with a sample of the food, interrupting her mad scribbling.

"_Buon appetito_!" Feliciano said, and everyone took a tentative first bite. The reaction was just about the same throughout the room.

"He can actually cook good food," Ron said, gaping at his pasta. "He _is_ a genius!"

"Ron, manners," Hermione said with a grimace. "It's falling out of your mouth."

"If I had a boyfriend who could cook like this…" Lavender sighed, looking dreamy as she daintily ate her meal.

"Dude, you should totally make some pizza later!" Alfred said, scarfing down the pasta like it was the end of the world. "Can I have seconds?"

Even Umbridge looked like she was impressed with the dish. After her first bite, she scratched a few words onto her clipboard. Feliciano and Lovino exchanged glances.

"Nee, _fratello_, do you think she'll give us a good grade now?"

"She'd better. If that bribe wasn't enough, she's a devil in disguise. A devil with no taste in good food."

* * *

><p>"That was a great lesson," Ron said as they paused at the door. Umbridge had already left, and most of the other Gryffindors were out of the room. "You sure know how to cook."<p>

Feliciano grinned. "_Grazie_!"

"I would have liked a little more of a lesson, to be honest," Hermione said. "Of course, those stories about La Signora del Gioco were quite… interesting."

"It's only the first class," Lovino replied with a shrug. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be, considering that old hag was watching us the entire time."

"Ve~ we'll be back to teach again soon!" Feliciano said. "Not sure when, but I'll be sure to bring more pasta!"

"Tell us ahead of time so we can skip breakfast!" Alfred said, patting his stomach.

"Will do!"

The rest of the day went by fairly well. Potions wasn't the most brilliant thing in the world (grades for their potions were handed over—Hermione, Roderich, Elizaveta, and Ivan obtaining the highest marks with Parvati, Ludwig, and Feliks coming in a close second). Divination was with the Hufflepuffs, of whom Feliciano and Lovino were absent to teach the Ravenclaws and Slytherins who had that current History timeslot. Antonio looked bored without Lovino around, but he made the best of a class period under Trelawney and supervised by Umbridge just like everyone else.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was with the Ravenclaws, and it was the class everyone was dreading. Umbridge was already in the room when everyone arrived, and she jumped right into the lesson with "wands away", not that anyone had bothered to pull them out in the first place.

"Please turn to page nineteen and start chapter two, 'Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation.' There will be no need to talk."

Hermione and Toris both raised their hands before anyone could flip to the right page. Umbridge went towards the Lithuanian boy, bypassing Hermione entirely. "What's troubling you, Mr. Lorinaitis?"

"Professor, I don't have my book. Would it be alright if I share with Feliks?" he asked politely.

Umbridge blinked in surprise, and she quickly showed one of her fake smiles. "What happened to your book?"

"A cat decided to use it as a scratching post _and_ a litter box." Toris gave Heracles a pointed look from across the room. The Greek man looked over lazily and shrugged.

"Ah, alright." Umbridge stepped back. Hermione still had her hand in the air, and Umbridge took the long way around the class before stopping next to her desk. "What is it this time, Miss Granger?"

"I've already read chapter two," Hermione replied. "I've read the entire book, actually."

"So have I," Eduard said with a hand politely raised.

"I as well," Kiku added.

Umbridge looked thoroughly surprised. "Well, then, you should all be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counterjinxes in chapter fifteen."

"He said that counterjinxes aren't really 'counters,'" Eduard said.

"They are more like witches and wizards trying to make excuses for the use of the spells," Kiku continued.

"Yes, he says that they are intended to cause harm, but they're called counterjinxes to make them sound more acceptable," Hermione finished. She paused, biting her lip as if she were debating on something, and then said, "but I disagree."

"Oh? Is that so?" Umbridge asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Hermione said with a nod. "Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes at all. But they can be used in defense quite effectively, can't they? That's what I believe."

"Well, I'm afraid it's Slinkhard's opinion that matters in the classroom, not yours Miss Granger." Her voice had risen in pitch and volume, and now everyone was looking up from their textbooks and watching the events unfold.

"But—"

"That's quite enough, Miss Granger," Umbridge said. "Five points from Gryffindor house."

The silence in the room was shattered. Ravenclaws whispered to each other, and Alfred and Yong Soo gave cries out outrage. Harry clenched his hand into a fist and said, "What for?"

"For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions," Umbridge said. "I'm here to teach you using Ministry-approved methods that don't include students speaking their opinions on matters they don't understand. Your previous teachers may have allowed it, but none of them—aside from perhaps Professor Quirrell—would have passed a Ministry inspection—"

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," Harry sneered with a roll of his eyes, "there was just the minor problem of having Lord Voldemort attached to the back of his head and all, wasn't there?"

Dead silence.

"I think another week's detentions would do you some good, Mr. Potter." Umbridge said coolly, the corner of her mouth twitching into a half-smirk, half-smile.

"I don't see the reason for that, Professor."

Umbridge turned around to the source of the voice. Her eyes landed on the Arthur, who was sitting next to Francis in front of Dean and Seamus. The French man looked heavily surprised, as did the rest of the class. "Oh, is that so Mr. Kirkland?"

"Yes. Harry was only speaking the truth, after all," Arthur said, glancing over to the boy out of the corner of his eye. "It's not _entirely_ secret knowledge that Professor Quirrell had been working with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And I'd have to disagree on your assessment of the previous teachers, especially Remus Lupin. I've met him personally, and he was an excellent teacher."

Umbridge's fake smile looked strained. "And you believe you know this for certain?"

"Certainly. I'm the representative of Great Britain after all. I need to know about the important individuals in the country; that includes teachers at the world-renown magical school of Hogwarts."

"Then I'm sure you're aware of the fact that he was a potentially dangerous half-breed?"

"Quite aware. That didn't make him any less capable when classes were taught in the mornings and afternoons. And I must express my distaste at your misuse of the word 'half-breed.'"

"Mr. Kirkland," Umbridge said slowly, "you may represent Great Britain during meetings with other nations, but you aren't the voice of our country."

There was an odd sound in the classroom, almost like choking. Alfred had a hand clapped over his mouth to stifle his snickers, and Yong Soo had his head on the table, his shoulders shaking violently. Toris and Feliks exchanged amused glances, and Yao was hiding a grin. Even Francis—hell, _even Heracles_ seemed to find the ordeal to be laughable.

Umbridge looked around at everyone, giving them a look of confusion before turning back to Arthur. "Your position doesn't grant you special treatment from the Ministry, and even though this world collaboration affair is not a program of the Ministry's, I'm sure we have the jurisdiction to send someone else in your place. I think a detention is in order to remind you of this. And this goes for all of the representatives," she said, turning to look at the class. The amused reactions stopped immediately. "You are guests in this country, guests in this school. Do not think that the rules do not apply to you because you are not citizens here, or because you may be older than the average student, as I will not accept any less behavior than I expect of those attending these classes as true students of Hogwarts. I'm sure the Ministry and your own countries would not be pleased with outrageous behavior either. Now, please return to your books and continue reading chapter two."

But none of the representatives moved. They stared at Umbridge with mixed emotions: stifled rage, disgust, hatred, disbelief, shock. She returned to her desk and pretended she didn't see them.

* * *

><p>"That woman was threatening us," Elizaveta said as she sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Students were only just starting to gather for dinner. "That <em>bitch<em> was threatening us!"

"Well what do you expect?" Francis asked, swooping over and running hand through his hair. "As far as she's concerned, we are simply uninvited guests who should not have been here in the first place."

"She's sort of right, though," Eduard said, eliciting several "WHAT?"s from the other Gryffindor and Ravenclaw representatives gathered. "It's not like I'm taking that woman's side. I'm only saying that we _are_ guests in this country, and as guests we are expected to follow the rules."

"But we're…" Alfred trailed off. "Fine, I get the point… But the Ministry is totally messed up now—haven't you heard of all those Death Eaters that are supposed to be working undercover there? Arthur, you're frickin' England! You can complain and stuff, can't you?"

"Why do you think I spoke up this afternoon?" Arthur asked with a light scowl. He took a sip of pumpkin juice from one of the goblets. "A direct approach isn't proper in this situation—it only makes the panicked go on the defensive. Times like this make me rethink the amount of interaction we have with the magical communities. Most of the time we let them deal with problems on their own—to the point where even the current Minister of Magic has no idea who I am."

"Can't you just go up and tell the Minister who you are and end all of this?"

"If I had taken action earlier, maybe. But the Ministry is in a state of disarray, on the verge of collapse. Scotland tried to reason with the Minister, and that ended horribly. At this point, anything I say will probably be taken as support for Dumbledore. Just because I'm England doesn't mean the panicked masses will listen to what I say—especially for a society that doesn't even know we exist… They'll think the world's gone completely insane. They may even blame _me_ for this mess."

"Well, we're guests here, but this Voldemort problem is everybody's business," Toris said. "He's currently somewhere in Britain, so it's not our country's job to come rushing in to investigate, but Ministry in-action could be disastrous! And, as a human, I can't stand seeing the way that Umbridge woman is treating the teachers and students like Harry. We can't just sit back at let this happen right in front of our noses, can we?"

"Humans first and nations second in this situation, is it?" Arthur asked in a dry tone. He dropped his voice as other Hogwarts students passed the table. "Just lay low for now, try to avoid causing trouble. I'm sure things will be fixed, one way or another… Ah, quiet, everyone."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ron's younger sister Ginny approached the gathered reps with bags slung over their shoulders and unhappy looks on their faces. "Hey, Arthur," Harry said, sitting next to Elizaveta and looking over to the bushy-browed man. "Thanks for that, earlier. Speaking up in front of Umbridge, I mean."

"Yeah, especially for Lupin," Ron said.

"He was a great teacher," Ginny added. "I may not be in the same class as you all, but I can't stand hearing those rude things about him. It's only bad that you've gotten yourself detention as well."

"It was nothing at all," Arthur replied, getting to his feet to make room for the other Gryffindors. "I'm only sorry we had to formally meet in such a manner, Mr. Potter."

"Err, just call me Harry."

"In class, you said you knew Lupin, didn't you?" Hermione inquired with a curious tilt of her head.

"I've met him before, once or twice," Arthur said with a nod. "A few years back. I know he's a good man. Now, I should be getting back to my table." He walked off, and several of the Ravenclaw reps followed suit. Only Toris and Lilli stayed behind.

"Something really needs to be done about that Umbridge woman," Alfred remarked, scooping a pile of roasted potatoes onto his plate. "I swear, I'm not learning _anything_ in that class! I wish we had a better teacher—I bet even a _student_ could teach better defense than her!"

There were a few murmurs of agreement at the Gryffindor table. No one, however, seemed to notice Hermione as she stared at Alfred, eyes wide as if something he'd said had sparked a brilliant idea.

* * *

><p>"And I thought <em>Heracles<em> loved cats," Arthur mumbled under his breath as he looked around at the startlingly pink office. The number of magic cat dishes hanging on the walls was more than a little disturbing. The images of fluffy flat-faced felines prowling around seemed to be watching them.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Umbridge turned around to face them from behind her desk. She gave one of her fake coughs.

"Mr. Potter, I would like you to do your previous lines. You remember them, don't you? 'I must not tell lies.' And Mr. Kirkland, I would like you to write… Hmm, how about 'I must not overstep authority'?"

Harry gave a curt nod, and Arthur looked at the blank paper in front of him with a curious, if somewhat confused expression. "The quills don't use ink," Harry said in a dull voice, and he started to write his lines. What he wouldn't give to be practicing out on the Quidditch pitch or relaxing in the common room… The pain flared on the back of his hand, the scabs and scars opening up again as the words etched on the paper were mirrored on his skin. He caught Arthur watching him with a still face, but there was alarm in his eyes.

Arthur proceeded to work without complaint. His first line was hesitant. He winced as the letters were cut into his skin and watched as the injury healed in mere seconds. But Harry was shocked when, after the first line was written, the next dozen or so came without so much as a flinch.

Harry turned back to his paper, keeping his head down as he worked in silence. The only sound in the room came from the _scritch-scritch_ of quills rubbing against paper, and Umbridge shuffling through tests that awaited grades.

After a previous week of this torture, Harry's hand wasn't healing. Spots of blood dripped from the cuts and flecked against the parchment, but he continued on for what seemed like an eternity until Umbridge coughed and shot the boys a grin. "Well, I think that's enough for tonight. Hands?"

Harry held his out with a grimace, and Umbridge's smile only widened. "Mm, the message is sinking in," she said. Turning to Arthur, her smile slipped. His hand was pale and smooth, and there was no evidence of scars or cuts. It seemed less damaged than even Harry's first night of detention. "I think a few more nights of lines are in order. You're both free to go now."

Harry stood up and gathered his things quickly before walking out the door. He didn't look back until he was halfway down the corridor, and when he did he saw Arthur walking a few steps behind him.

"So that's what that woman calls detention," Arthur remarked.

Harry mumbled something, trying to not sound irate. Most of his attention was on his still-throbbing hand.

Arthur's bushy eyebrows furrowed in sympathy and worry. "Your hand is bleeding."

"I guess a week of those lines really makes the message _sink in_…"

"It's quite frankly an unjust punishment," Arthur said, crossing his arms. "'I shall not tell lies'… Absurd! I know for a fact that what you and Dumbledore have said is true."

"Thanks… You're one of the only ones who do."

"Oh, I'm not sure about that." Arthur flashed a light smile. "I think there are more people than you know that support and believe you. They just don't want to say it."

Harry frowned. "How can you be so sure?"

"It's… just a feeling a have."

Something about Arthur seemed a little strange. Harry couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly—maybe it was the look in his eyes that seemed too wise for his age, or maybe it was his tone of voice, or maybe it was simply his confidence—but it struck him as… odd.

* * *

><p>Feliks kicked his legs in the air, flipping through one of the many wizard fashion magazines he had swiped from a couple of third year Hufflepuffs in the library. He was sprawled out on his bed in the dormitory as Alfred, Yong Soo, and Vash prepared to turn in early. But, of course, things were never quiet in Gryffindor Tower.<p>

"Are you _mental_?"

Feliks snapped his head up, exchanging curious glances with Yong Soo, Alfred, and Vash. Muffled voices seemed to be coming from the common room. It sounded like Harry. Apparently he was back from detention.

"What's going on, da-ze?" Yong Soo asked, jumping to his feet and rushing over. He and Alfred peered outside down the stairs.

"Should we investigate?" Alfred asked with a grin.

"Totally," Feliks replied. What better way to waste a Monday evening? As long as it meant he didn't have to write another essay. The three Gryffindors rushed off. Vash followed grudgingly behind them, shaking his head with his hands tucked into his pockets.

Elizaveta was already there, surprisingly, seated on one of the couches. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and that ugly orange furball cat were gathered by the fire, and Harry, with his hand soaked in some sort of astringent slosh, didn't look happy.

"What's going on here?" Alfred looked around. "Dude, what's wrong with your hand? It's bleeding!"

"It was Umbridge!" Elizaveta said. "Do you know what kind of detention she gave Harry and Arthur? Made them write with a bewitched quill! She cut their hands open!"

"What!"

"She got Iggy too?" Alfred looked shocked.

Vash clenching his fists. His hands inched for the wand hidden in his jacket. Feliks stepped away, not wanting to be a victim of the Swiss man's misplaced anger.

"Guys, it's not that bad," Harry said, rubbing his head.

"Dude, she's making you _slice open your own hand_!" Alfred said. "The hero's gotta do something! Damn, you think Arthur's alright?"

"Well, he _is_ a…" Elizaveta trailed off, eyes flickering to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice.

"Slow down, Alfred," Harry said before the riled up American could rush out of the common room. "There's nothing we can do… She'll just make sure anyone we tell gets sacked."

There was a dejected murmur of agreement. How hard would it be to add to Umbridge's power trip with a few more Educational Decrees? Not very.

"But what was all the shouting about?" Yong Soo asked with a tilt of his head.

"Oh, Hermione just came up with a _brilliant_ idea," Ron said. The bushy-haired Gryffindor flushed.

"It wasn't really my idea… It was actually something Alfred said that made me think of it."

"Oh, sweet, another person listening to the hero!" Alfred pumped a fist in the air.

Vash rolled his eyes. "Do you even know what it is you said?"

"Not at all!"

"So like, what's the idea?" Feliks asked, only half paying attention. Part of him was imagining what it would be like to torch down Umbridge's wardrobe. It brought a smile to his face.

"Well, Alfred said that even a student could probably teach better classes than that horrible woman. That got me to thinking…" Hermione paused. "What if we had our own Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons? We really aren't learning _anything_ in her class, at this rate we won't be prepared for the OWLs, and seeing as… V-Voldemort is back," Ron visibly flinched, and Hermione shot him a look, "we should learn how to defend ourselves, with actual spells and lessons."

"That sounds like an awesome idea!" Alfred exclaimed.

"Definitely, da-ze!" Yong Soo added.

Vash frowned. "That sounds like a _risky_ idea. Who would be the teacher, anyway?"

"Harry," Ron replied, nodding his head at the Boy-Who-Lived. "He's beaten You-Know-Who loads of times—not just when he was a baby. There was also the Basilisk, and over a hundred dementors!"

"That was all luck!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm not qualified to teach! I'm not amazing like you two keep saying!"

"I don't know, I'm liking this idea da-ze," Yong Soo said thoughtfully, scratching his chin.

Alfred nodded eagerly in agreement. "The hero approves!"

"If we get caught, it could mean expulsion," Vash said, grimacing. "But… it _is_ for safety reasons…"

"I've already agreed with Hermione," Elizaveta said with a nod. "And sneaking around under that hag's nose is just a bonus."

"Guys—no—I—Feliks!" Harry looked exasperated as he turned to the blond boy. "You think this is a crazy idea too, don't you?"

"I'll like, decorate the class!" Feliks said cheerfully. Harry face-palmed.

"Alright, alright," he said, defeated. He slouched back in the armchair, stroking Crookshanks' head with his good hand. "I'll think about it… We'll figure this out later."

* * *

><p>Ahah! If the Italy brothers' lesson seemed a bit lax, don't worry, it's only the first lesson. Umbridge hasn't quite gotten into her tyrant-mode yet. I personally had a hard time writing this chapter.<p>

Nocebastone I think means, correct me if I'm wrong, Walnut Stick (or wand), which is where Feli and Lovi got their wand-woods from. Their cores are from water nymphs, nymphs originally being from Greek mythology, but the nymphs that the Romans had were usually water-based instead of the variety the Greeks had. This one is a bit more complicated, but the wand lengths come from the regions of North and South Italy. I think the numbers are correct (Sardinia included in Lovi's, and another inch for the other smaller islands).

Lots of people got America and Canada's wand backgrounds right. :3 Congrats!

Anyway, thank you so much for the feedback, everyone! Stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, everyone! Holy cow, it's been almost a year since I last updated. o.o I'm _really_ sorry, but I didn't have time to work on this over the past school year. This chapter, I decided to get out to keep you all from waiting longer, but it's only half as long as the usual chapter because I desperately need to re-read _Order of the Phoenix_.

Let me not keep you any longer! Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Shapeless shadows danced across the walls in the flickering glow of a solitary candle on the table. The smell of stale air and smoke and dust clung to every surface, every corner. Were it not for the cracked grandfather clock that stood tall, ticking monotonously with every passing second, the room would have been utterly silent.<p>

Thirty ticks went by before he spoke. "Well? What news do you have for me?"

The dark figure standing in the open doorway, face obscured in the shadows but the submission evident in his posture, seemed to tense with nervousness. "It is about Dumbledore, My Lord," Lucius said. "Dumbledore and Hogwarts."

"What is it?"

"It seems that he has enlisted foreign wizards to teach at the school this year."

"Foreign wizards?"

Lucius nodded. "They come from several different countries, and to discover their identities will mean investigating the other Ministries. They do not appear to be extraordinary or influential wizards—no one has heard of them before, so they obviously do not have any international acclaim—and many seem young. But if Dumbledore hired them… they must be a part of some sort of plan to defend the Potter boy."

"As to be expected from that old fool…"

"He, apparently, chose not to run the idea through the Ministry before inviting the foreigners, who claim to be representatives of the countries they come from. The Department of International Magical Cooperation doesn't appear to have records of these wizards. We have people looking into their status in their home countries as we speak, in case the Ministry has simply neglected to log their names… However, it's entire possible that this is all just a ruse to give Potter more protection."

Dumbledore… So he was bringing new pieces onto the board? These new pawns certainly wouldn't be able to stand up against the Dark Lord himself. But this was a strange move—one that he could not read. It was always better to know your enemy in case they held any annoyances up their sleeves. Perhaps he would even be able to use some of them…

"My Lord?" the hesitant voice came. The meekness was almost laughable.

"Find out who these 'representatives' are. If Dumbledore has hired them, they can't be ordinary wizards. Otherwise… we will continue to find a way to open that door."

...

"Harry. Harry? Come on, get up! Hermione's waiting downstairs!"

At the not-so-gentle shove at his shoulder, the dark-haired boy's eyes flew open. Everything was a mess of scarlet and gold against the brown walls and floor, but he could make out a particular blur of bright red shuffling across the room. Harry reached for the bedside table, grasping his glasses and pushing them up the edge of his nose to give the world around him a bit more clarity.

"You alright, mate? You were mumbling in your sleep again," Ron said as he rummaged around in his trunk. He was already dressed in a t-shirt and slacks.

"I'm fine," Harry said, holding back a yawn. "Just a weird dream." But just like the last set of reoccurring dreams, all involving that long empty corridor, he knew there was much more going on than his mind conjuring random images during sleep.

_It was Voldemort… and Malfoy's father. They were talking about the representatives… It couldn't have been just a dream._ Harry stared out the window, where the sky looked gray and cold. _What _are_ they doing here? Could they really be working for Dumbledore?_

Ron finally fished his jacket out of the trunk, and threw it over his shoulder. "Hey, Harry, come on. Everyone's already in the Great Hall for breakfast. Today's the trip to Hogsmeade."

Damn. That meant today was the day… "Right."

* * *

><p>The first Hogsmeade trip of the year was on a chilly October weekend. The students, third years and older, pulled on their gloves and jackets to protect themselves from the sharp autumn bite. They left the castle in groups after breakfast, walking along the paths towards the little village only a short distance away. Excitement was thick in the air—the chance to go out and have fun at the village wasn't exactly a frequent occurrence. For the representatives, barring Arthur, it was their first visit to Hogsmeade. And if all went to according to plan, there wouldn't be only sight-seeing and window-shopping on the agenda.<p>

"What sort of things do they sell at Hogsmeade?" Lilli asked as they stepped over the discolored leaves that littered the stone path.

"All sorts," Luna replied with her usual dreamy tone. They had lagged towards the back of the line of students, not minding when others more eager to get to the village hurried in front of them. "Food, books, clothes, candy… What are you going to get?"

Lilli flushed a little and looked down. "Oh, I don't know," she said. _Bruder_ always said that it was good to be frugal… Although hot cocoa did sound good. Maybe she could buy one for him too—Basch liked chocolate as much as he liked cheese fondue. Shifting her attention back to the conversation at hand, Lilli asked, "What are you planning to buy?"

"I was thinking of visiting Tomes and Scrolls," Luna said. "I wonder if they received their shipments on books about Crumple-Horned Snorkack… They live in Sweden, you know. No one's ever found one, but my father and I are planning a trip next year to search for it."

"Maybe we should ask Berwald," Lilli suggested.

A rude snort came from behind them. The two young Ravenclaws turned around to see Malfoy and his lackeys. The leader of the trio was sneering.

"Crumple-Horned Snorkack? Ridiculous," Malfoy said. "Only complete loons like you and your father could believe in those." Luna's eyes narrowed.

"Don't say things like that about Luna!" Lilli exclaimed.

"Aw, Loony's made a friend," Malfoy said, laughing. "Better than the Weasley girl you always hang out with. Hmm… You seem well-kept. Are you a Pure-blood?" he directed the question towards Lilli, a mild curiosity hidden behind his haughtiness.

"I…" Lilli hesitated. What was she supposed to say in this situation again? Yes? No? Change the subject? Oh, if only she hadn't been distracted when England was telling them…!

"Is there a problem here?"

Everyone turned to the young man walking behind them on the trail to Hogsmeade.

"Beilschmidt," Malfoy said, startled. "There's no problem here—I was only seeing if this girl was a Pure-blood."

The air around Ludwig suddenly became much more serious. His eyes turned icy as he looked down at the platinum-blond-haired boy. "I don't really see why that matters."

Malfoy nearly flinched at the hard tone in Ludwig's voice. He grunted, rolling his eyes and muttering insults under his breath before pushing ahead towards the entrance pillars of Hogsmeade. His two lackeys rushed after him, stumbling over their own feet until they were out of view.

Lilli's pursed lips slid into a small smile. "Thank you,_ Herr_ Ludwig."

"You're welcome, Lilli. It was the least I could do," Ludwig replied, still looking rather grim. "Now, have either of you seen Feliciano? That _dummkopf_ forgot his jacket in the Great Hall, and he's probably freezing right now…" He held up the brown article of clothing in question.

"I think he passed by a few minutes ago," Luna said airily, looking around without any alarm. "Perhaps the Three Broomsticks?"

"Thank you, I'll try there first." Ludwig started to move forward, but a thought occurred to Lilli.

"Will you and _Herr_ Gilbert be at the Hog's Head for the meeting later?" she asked curiously. She knew that word had reached a number of other Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, but considering the bad relations between Gryffindor and Slytherin…

Her curiosity was quelled. The answer was given to her with a short nod from Ludwig before he jogged ahead into the bustling little village.

* * *

><p>"Sea—Peter! What the bloody hell are you doing here!"<p>

"You didn't get me a present for my birthday, Jerk Iggy!"

Arthur rubbed his head to soothe his sudden migraine as the short blond boy darted through the crowded street. A few nearby villagers and students turned and shot odd looks at the boy. If ordinary Muggle clothing was odd to wizards, it must have been something to see someone wearing a sailor suit in the middle of fall… "Ah, yes, sorry about that… I've been rather busy."

"It's been more than a month!"

"Like I said, I've been busy."

"Oh? It's the little fort," Francis said, stepping away from the window of a cloak shop and approaching the two brothers. "I didn't know we were having guests over… I think I saw Denmark walking into the pub just now."

"France! Those candies you got me were really good! Thanks!"

"It was nothing! And it's 'Francis' here, remember?"

"Oh, right, haha!"

"Wait—the _frog_ got you something?" Arthur shot the French man a suspicious glare.

"Why must you look at me like I've done something wrong?" Francis asked, feigning hurt and waving a hand. "It's not like I've harmed the boy. Obviously I've been a better brother for him than you have."

"Giving a person presents for _one_ birthday doesn't make you a better brother!" Arthur snapped, turning back towards the shops lining the crowded street. "Come on, Peter, I'll get you something from one of the stores here…"

"Awesome! Anything I want?"

"… We'll see."

"Run his wallet dry," Francis whispered, winking.

Peter grinned and gave a mock salute. "Will do!"

"I heard that, Frog!"

Francis watched as Arthur and Peter made their way into the nearby candy shop, a half-smile on his face. "England…" He shook his head and chuckled to himself.

"Hmm…? Oh, Francis! There you are."

A certain cheerful-looking Spaniard approached from Dominic Maestro's Music Shop, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. "Antonio!" Francis said. "Not with dear Lovino today, I see?"

Antonio laughed but shook his head. "Nah, he ran off somewhere a little while ago. The trio hasn't been able to hang out much recently, so I was thinking today might be a good chance."

"Mm, good idea! Classes have been taking up quite a chunk of our time…" Francis paused. "Although… where is Gilbert? We can't be a trio without every point of the triangle."

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Antonio scratched his head. "I thought he might have been at the pub, but the bar woman says she hasn't seen him… And it's kind of hard to miss Gil."

Francis scanned the crowd, rubbing a hand against his chin. "Well, there can't be many places to hide around here…" He trailed off, eyes landing on a pretty witch walking out of the bookstore with a stack of hardcover books. "If Gilbert wants to goof off, it's his loss. Excuse me, _mademoiselle_? Have you ever spent a day with a French man?"

* * *

><p>"So we finally got here to this tiny village. Well, seeing as we're waiting for Fin and Sve, this is the perfect opportunity to sample some beer! Wouldn't you say, Nor? Ice?"<p>

The two light-haired boys exchanged skeptical glances. "You do realize we're in public, don't you?" the older of the brothers asked quietly. "We use _human_ names, Søren."

"Huh—oh, right. Sorry, _Lukas_. Let's grab this table over here."

They three nations made their way through the warmly lit pub, inhaling the delicious scents of beer and pumpkin spices wafting from behind the counter. They stopped at an unoccupied table for five in the corner of the room by the window.

"Not a bad place," Søren said, looking up at the orange lights and miniature chandeliers strung across the ceiling. He grinned. "My pubs are _so_ much better though. I wonder what kind of drinks they have."

"When are Tino and Berwald supposed to get here?" Iceland—oh, ahem, _Emil_—asked, resting his elbow against the table and his face against his gloved hand. "I heard they met that Potter kid."

"_I_ heard they have a real witch of a teacher," Søren replied. "Get it? A real _witch_? But from what I heard Taiwan say about her letter from China, the woman's a real _bitch_."

"You aren't funny, Søren," Lukas said in a deadpan. "You're upsetting the troll."

Søren leaned in his chair. He could barely see one of Lukas's chubby cow-tailed troll buddies hanging behind him, hiding and blowing a raspberry at the Dane. Sometimes it was a little annoying when they stopped near a just-a-little-too-magical place and the troll took solid form. But at least it wasn't one of the fairies this time.

"People are beginning to stare," Emil muttered, glancing around the pub. Among the handful of adults that occupied seats throughout the building, there were a number of teenagers—students, probably—that ordered drinks and sat by the fires. But both the adults and the children were eyeing the Nordic countries with some apprehension… Or, as it seemed more likely, they were eyeing Lukas's friend.

"What is that?" one boy with an Irish accent asked, leaning forward to get a better view of the troll. "It looks like a gnome that took a bludger to the face."

It was almost impossible to tell, but Søren was pretty sure Lukas's cheeks turned just the tiniest shade of pink—either in irritation or embarrassment. "He's a troll," Lukas said quietly.

"A troll?" the boy said, eyebrows shooting up. "What's one doing in Hogsmeade? Aren't they nasty?"

"Eh, he's more tolerable than Emil's puffin," Søren said, earning himself a glare.

"He's a friend," Lukas said, ignoring the other two. "The troll folk from Scandinavia are much different from the ones in central Europe."

"Much different from the ones who attacked Liechtenstein a few centuries back," Emil muttered.

"Really? So you're from Scandinavia, then?" the boy asked.

"I'm from Denmark," Søren said. "Lukas over here is from Norway, and Emil is from Iceland. So more Nordic than Scandinavian."

"Are you three representatives then?" another boy asked. "You know Alfred and Yong Soo and them?"

"Hm? You know them?" Emil asked. "By any chance, do you know Tino and Berwald?"

"Oh, yeah, I saw Tino at the WWN—the Wizarding Wireless Network down the street with Eduard. As for Berwald, last I heard he got into some trouble with our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Had to stay back today."

"The Umbridge woman?" Søren asked. "Oh, jeez. So that's why it's taking them so long to get here… Anyway, thanks… What're your names?"

"Seamus Finnigan."

"Dean Thomas."

"You know, if you're waiting for the others," Seamus added, "They're all meeting at the Hog's Head later."

"Hog's Head?" Søren repeated. "Thanks. We'll head there after we get a drink, right guys?"

"Do we have much of a choice?" Emil asked, raising an eyebrow as Søren flagged down the barmaid and the troll took the opportunity to flick cotton balls at his head.

* * *

><p>I am bending the timeline a bit with this… If Harry Potter Y5 takes place in 1995, there's no way that Sweden could have tried to bid for Sealand (which took place in 2007).<p>

According to the Harry Potter Wiki, that thing with Liechtenstein and the trolls did happen in the HP universe. There are really interesting bits from the Wiki that I hope to incorporate.

Also, I think I'm taking to the idea of German-speaking characters calling Vash "Basch" while others call him "Vash." A sort of compromise, because I like the name "Vash" but I believe the former is correct. I could probably find a way to implement this for the correct way to spell Hungary's name.

In the meantime! I would really appreciate any ideas for lessons that the nations can teach. Particularly legends and legendary figures, rather than only mythical beasts.


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